


To the Victors...

by Salvasti



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: AU Pre-SilMil, Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Expect more tags as more things happen, F/F, Fantasy, Getting some language, Magic, Scars, Things look bad, Violence, alternating povs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2020-07-19 03:36:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 66,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salvasti/pseuds/Salvasti
Summary: The System is not at peace and the Darkness threatens to obliterate everything within its path.  As life grows dim and the War Machine grows, an uneasy agreement has been struck.  Will it be enough for things to flourish anew, or is it just a case dying to one thing instead of the other?





	1. Companions in Arms

_...Ten Lunar SigilRippers will await you at Bryzantiz, Tyrrhena, on the seventeenth of Soray. From there, they will teleport you and your armies to Mare Cognitum for tactical discussion and staging. _

_ The Lunar Kingdom has agreed to your tribute, graciously given upon this grave threat being no more. _

_ Queen Serenity. _

The raven haired woman looked up from the carefully penned letter, the ink not yet completely set. If not handled properly, it would smear and all the hard work presented would be for naught. There was no flowery titles or claims; simple words with simple implications. All it required was just to be folded and sealed with the Queen’s mark, before it could be dispatched. If they retained the favor of the Graces, it would soon be in the hands of the Premier of Mars. With the Queen’s agreement… she swallowed, looking to the woman who wrote away their lives.

She looked tired, unfocused gaze at the surface of the desk rather than than anything else within the room. The flicker from the lit candles played shadows and tricks, casting visages of things that perhaps were not truly there but the imagination said they would be. Earth had long since set, and she knew the hour was late. The Queen had been working at this for hours, if the collection of half written papers were any indication on the floor. A few still lingered on the desk and without looking she knew what they all said.  _ Please help us, but you cannot plunder those of the Alliance as payment. _

Mars would never agree to that. Not from the Premier, and not from her father. There really wasn’t any other choice in the matter. If they wanted to have assistance, they would have to pay for it.

“Ten SigilRippers?” There wasn’t anything safe to talk about, much less ask about, but still she had to say something. Anything. It would provide some sort of comfort to the fact that… She swallowed again.

The reply came back quickly; an unfocused gaze or not she was still rather alert. “I know, it’s most of our forces. I cannot afford to lose any of her armies to the Darkness however, and I cannot allow the Premier to think us existing only on our reserves. She’ll find that out soon enough, but by then there won’t be any turning back. There is far too much at stake, and I am relying on their sense of prospective conquest to stay.”

“Most of them have barely earned the title, much less possess the skill to get all of her armies here.”

“It must be done Luna. There is no other way.” The Queen sat back, looking now to the ceiling. Shadows could not be blamed on the dark circles under her eyes, and she was not entirely sure if the gaunt features were a trick of the light or the reality. “We need her too much that it is a risk we have to take that nothing goes wrong on the teleportations between now and at the end. She will not have the title of Imperator, however.”

“...You mean?” She couldn’t help the rising inflection of hope to her voice.

“I’ve dispatched a letter to Uranus before I started on the one to the Premier. They’ve done all that they could for her sake, so it will have to be enough. This isn’t a battle for the sake of a battle; it is one we fight in desire for it to end. That alone is why Imperator will not be hers. She’ll be here though, and the greed will keep her here. While she will rail against the leadership she will be serving under… if she put up with Haruka for over a decade, the Premier won’t be an issue.”

So very many things depend upon each other, from the work Haruka and Michiru did, to Artemis scouring the tropical hellscape that was Venus, to getting the Premier to agree to anything, to having Minako be able to lead. “What is your plan for Jupiter? Are you still going to try to gain those Ruin Terramancers?”

“It’s my hope that with the Premier on our side that they can be swayed.” The Queen rose, slow graceful steps carrying her to the window where she was already standing. “We cannot do this alone, and her Crystal will be vital just as the others are.”

Nothing was said. With hope Artemis would find Venus’ as without it, Minako could not draw on its power. It also had a direct impact on the Queen’s own Silver Crystal that was dimming. Finding it would help towards the recovery. In the now though, it meant the Venusian heir was going to be direly outmatched in comparison to everyone else. That she expressed it aloud…

“I know Luna. If anyone though can teach her to fight no matter what it is Haruka, and perhaps there is no one better than Michiru to get her confidence back beyond the scars. We must be thankful to whatever Graces were swayed for her being shuttled away in the first place.” A sigh followed, a hand pressing to the glass. “All we can do is hope and fight to protect those we love, as we always have. It will be enough.” A wane smile was given, “I am going to go to bed, though I am sure a small Serenity is already there and hopefully asleep, instead of being awake and upset I did not read her a story.”

She bid the Queen a goodnight after the letter was folded and sealed, promising to see it to a trustworthy SigilRipper that could take it to Mars with urgency. The other nine; in reality five, would need to be briefed of their impending assignment. Typically tactical maneuvers like these were Artemis’ department, but with his absence it became part of her duties.

_ All we can do is hope and fight to protect those we love, as we always have. It will be enough.  _ But what if it wasn’t? What if a piece fell out of place? What if they found success, and the Premier decided to raze them all at the end? Would it all be for nothing? Would it have been better to die to the Darkness or exist as a slave to the Premier’s war machine? It certainly would not be living, because she could not fathom wanting to live like that.

The hour was far too late for such pessimism.

Taking a moment to recollect her thoughts and pay some mind to her appearance, she gathered the letters that did not make the cut to be sent as they would have invited armies to finish decimating their existence. To the fire they went, watching as the flames curled and licked at hours of work like it was nothing, leaving ash in its wake. It was far too easy to get lost in the implications, banking the coals instead. Collecting the finished product, she closed the door behind her, making her way down the otherwise quiet halls.

Most of the guards had died earlier, leaving behind a skeleton crew that likely wasn’t necessary. More often than not the occasional one that she saw she told to get some rest. They deserved to have some warmth before they died, one last creature comfort. The Palace promoted pessimism and it simply wouldn’t do, shaking her head she hurried in her steps.

Once upon a time certainly the Palace had been beautiful, but that was quite some time ago. It was shortly after Artemis and herself had arrived that the Darkness came, and more than once she wondered if it had followed in their wake. No one went so far as to actually vocalize it, but it didn’t mean that they were not outside of their presence. The Queen said nothing, yet it did not bring her much comfort.

She really needed to get out of here.

The Palace gave way to steps, leading to where the remainder of the Lunar forces had camped. She would have to break the news to them that they would need to meet up at Mare Cognitum so they could be assimilated into the Premier’s army. Something that could be done in the morning; they wouldn’t have far to go.

For the most part, the Moon was free of the Darkness save for the occasional new spit-up that was found. The price paid was more than could be said without a hard swallow; over eighty percent of Lunar residents had perished, and Earth was hardly much better. Their Alliance had been long standing, the Moon a deployment point that later grew to the sovereignty of ruling. Numerous supplies and personnel came from Earth, and like it’s crown jewel, much of its population was no more.

It left Earth a lawless mass with a few pockets of survivors. Great cities had been reduced to but mere villages, bleak despair coloring much of what they did. Forces that could be spared, even though it crippled the Moon, were always sent to offer what aid possible. Even if was for nothing more than showing they would stand united to death, it meant something.

Sometimes they could get a shuttle to the Moon, laden with what could be produced with limited people and their manufacturing capabilities. From there it was quickly disseminated among the people and army, for a newly forged sword meant another could fight with a battle worn one. Supply drops like these were less and less frequent; a once thrice weekly event now every four months if they were lucky. The last one had been five months ago.

Orderly tents, once as far as the eye could see, were pitched in rows. No more than fifty, but she refused to acknowledge her mental count. White against the dried grass, a few campfires were still being tended, pots of tea that drew the few soldiers that were still awake. They paid her no mind, following with their eyes for a few steps before returning back to their cups. Maybe she should be surprised that they were not drinking something harder but all alcohol was under control of the medics and healers for sterilization.

She stopped at one tent, really no different than any of the others if it was not for the small pennant that hung from the side. Depicting a hand bearing a gauntlet, it seemed to be ripping the fabric of space. It was expertly done, back when supplies were far more numerous on each planet. The sign of a SigilRipper; she was about to announce her presence when the heavy fabric that served as a door was pushed back.

Deep, dark purple hair cut into a wild mohawk, complete with vivid red lines painted across his face, SigilRipper Bors could intimidate anyone who looked upon him. If she wasn’t prepared he would often times cause her to take a step back just by his mere presence. But behind the feral appearance was a kind-hearted man, their senior SigilRipper who had successfully completed missions beyond count. Missions that often took the lives of his fellow teleporters and those being whisked from one place to the next. Bright green eyes were always alert, no matter the hour, and she had to wonder if he actually slept at all.

“Lady Luna,” a rumble like far away thunder, “what brings you here at this hour?”

“S-SigilRipper Bors. I have a letter for you, from the Queen. She needs it delivered-”

“To Mars, lemme guess.” He answered for her, drawing no attention to her earlier stutter. “Whole camp’s been talking about it, can’t get a thought in otherwise without someone throwing around Mars this or Mars that.”

“Ah, yes. To the Premier of Mars, actually. Can you take it there?”

For a moment, the man considered her. A native Saturian, he had lived on the Moon ever since he completed his training. “The Premier of Mars. So it’s true then.” He didn’t give her a chance to confirm or deny just what he was talking about, nodding instead to turn back into his tent for a moment, returning with a packed bag. “Where do the other ones need to be at and when?”

It was better to just simply tell him. The man was trustworthy to the Crown, he had been for years. “Bryzantiz, Tyrrhena, on the fourteenth of next month.”

A low whistle was her reply, and his gaze left to peer down the row of tents. Worry was etched there among the striking red, nodding to himself a few times before his attention went back to her. “Alright. Tell Tallagaliel that she’ll be in charge of getting everyone there. Uzfang needs to stay behind; boy still hasn’t recovered yet. Don’t care what the medics say, ain’t that easy to act like missing an arm is that easy to heal from.”

It took considerable effort, but she gave no outward sign of the injuries she knew they all bore. Instead, she offered the letter bearing the Queen’s seal. “Be safe, please Bors.” Nothing was said in return, the man merely tucked the letter carefully into a pouch at his belt before nodding, robes swishing away.

Hopefully the Darkness would not take him, and equally as important, hopefully the Premier was in a gracious enough mood to accept that they agreed to her conditions without piling on more.


	2. Workshop "Godhands"

A soft breeze danced as well as they were with one another, cooling the sweat that left her rakishly styled bangs plastered otherwise to her forehead. For close to an hour this had been going on with no sign of letting up anytime soon. Not unless she wanted it to end, but it wasn’t all the time that she could have quite the fun like this. This was all a warm up to her; it didn’t matter that the other already had a workout just to get to this point in time.

The oncoming jabbing punch was deflected with a quickly raised arm, forearms colliding for a momentary second with an exhale. No attempt at a hold was made as another fist was coming her way and like the one before, it too was turned away. There was strength behind each blow, but as she taught the other all the strength in the world didn’t mean anything when you could merely turn it aside.

Blue eyes held her own but gave no indication towards frustration or other emotions,  _ she had learned,  _ merely moving from one form to the next with a grace instilled by long hours of repetition. When the straight punch yielded no results so did the cross punch following behind it. It was the same in the end, so did the hook, then the jab that started the circle all over again. She made no move towards her sword hanging at her side, the curved scimitar blade that held great power. It simply wouldn’t be  _ fair.  _ Perhaps a bit later, but right now the hand to hand held her attention; should it wane… well, that was another story.

Oh she changed it up though considerably. She wasn’t just defending and turning blows away, more often than not it just took a punch or two from her, perhaps a kick, and her opponent was on the ground if they didn’t move fast enough to get out of the way instead of standing there deflecting. The other never did of course. She was the wind, and it was foolish to stand and fight against such a primal force. Yet she kept getting back up again despite the dirt and grass stains that decorated her clothing from each meeting with the ground.

The kick; really it was a knee that if it worked would have lodged a foot right against her kidney she blocked, the moment she hesitated she knew the other understood. Spinning the other about by the limb she was given, she grew tired of their spar. Like the howling wind her own booted foot shot out, intent to kick the other square in the back and follow with two sharp body blows. That would be enough to put an end to this and nearly anything else.

The breeze shifted to alert her. There was a scent on it, one that was quite familiar. Familiar, and then a pleasing voice. “Ara Haruka, are you still at this?”

She, the wind, faltered. It was a momentary thing but the other seized on it. Her balance compromised all it took was a quick kick to her supporting knee and the next she knew the ground was right there. A bodily weight kept her pinned, sitting squarely across her back. With her leg immobilized and an arm held in an armlock, the chances of her getting up were not that great, nor would it be an easy task. Nor did it help that her scimitar was digging into her ribs, taunting that it was  _ right there  _ and completely useless at the moment.

A mutter before her gaze went to her partner that leaned against a tree. There it was, that playful smirk as the aqua haired woman awaited a response to her query, going so far as to add, “Should I be jealous?”

“Ugg. Lemme up.”

No response was given, just a tightening hold on her limbs.

“Fine! You got lucky, I was distracted! Now lemme up!”

“Distraction is still a distraction.” She was released, the weight removed from the pinning hold, and a gloved hand offered out to her. “You said so yourself.”

Fighting the desire to roll her eyes, she rolled to her back instead, accepting the hand to hoist herself up. There it was, that trained defensive nature the other held as they eyed each other. Clapping her on the back she laughed, waving it off. “About time you paid attention.” A few quick steps and her arm was slung around her fiance’s waist. “And you, Michiru, knew we’d be out here. That’s cheating.”

“Mm, no. She caught you fair and square. Sometimes you can contain the wind.” The playful smile said everything that the mere words did not, and she had no choice but to laugh even if she purposely made it sound like a groan. Collecting a kiss that was given with implications before eyeing the other.

Dressed in loose, though fitted clothing, it was the first opportunity that Minako had to take a break since the day started. Beginning with a ten mile run along the cliff side, as the wind fought her the entire way, the course was littered with obstacles in the form of downed trees and rocky outcroppings, not to mention the pathway was uneven and prone to rock slides. All of that to contend with before their sparring match even begun. The younger woman just offered a shrug, face shrouded by both veil and headdress. “Thanks Michiru.”

The gratitude was there, it just never touched her eyes. Someone would think it a small wonder if they knew what actually happened. 

In protest she had to offer something, “I’m getting ganged up on here.”

“Says the woman who flirts with anything that moves.” Minako fired back, stretching out her legs before sitting on her heels.

“Haruka!” There came the playful smack to her arm.

“Oh geeze, that does it. You are running the whole course to get back now Minako! No shortcuts!”

“Ara Haruka that won’t do.” The mood took on a serious note, if the next shift in the breeze was any indication. Rather though than direct it at her, her partner addressed Minako. “The Queen has requested your presence to begin the fight back. She has sent a SigilRipper to collect you back to the Moon,  _ Imperator. _ ” A folded letter was offered, still sealed, while another was gestured idly with. “It seems that the Queen has agreed to the demands of the Premier for use of the armies she possesses. However, she does not wish the Premier to lead, perhaps due to her nature. She has named you to do so, effective immediately.”

Minako said nothing, if anything she looked rather pointedly at the ground as though it held the secrets and answers of the universe to her and the dilemma she was likely facing. Sharing a look with Michiru there the conversation flowed silently between them. Just how long should they give before pressing, more so given the history between them? It would be heartless if they acted like it didn’t matter; it did, and the younger woman’s mental health was just as important as her physical well-being.

The choice was taken out of their hands though as the other stood up, walking to collect the sealed letter. Staring at it for a few moments she lowered her arm, looking to them instead. “I suppose this means I don’t have to look at your ugly face for a while again.”

“Yeah, it means I don’t have to deal with you falling asleep while you’re supposed to be learning.” 

It didn’t matter that the conversation sounded gruff, the meaning was there. For a moment she could pretend that Minako even cracked a smile, but she was not anticipating, nor dream, of the fact that she was hugged tightly instead. It caught her off guard, eyes blinking wide as she just stood there for a handful of seconds before finally reacting. From the corner of her eye she caught the approving look from her fiance and maybe it was in that moment she understood what it all meant.

A couple of minutes passed with nothing more being exchanged before Minako pulled back, opening the sealed letter to read over the contents. It was long, if the span of time passing was any indication before she looked back at them. When she didn’t say anything Michiru offered more, “The SigilRipper is currently resting, but will be ready to go when you are. Even still, you’ll both likely arrive after.”

They were tip-toeing around the real issue, the nature of the relationship between Martian and Venusian. Minako wasn’t the same girl she was at 17; she had seen to that, but she didn’t have the constant presence either of the Premier to haunt her. Well no, she did anytime she was alone, or anytime she was bathing, or anytime she was pushing herself and being pushed to hone skills that she really never had initially. Here it was though.

In true fashion Minako just seemed to shrug it off. “Alright. Should have time to clean up and pack then at least.” Shoving the letter away she turned to go, calling back over her shoulder. “I’ll see you both there long as you don’t get caught up in each other.”

It was like having a younger sibling, smirking. Waiting until the other blonde was well out of both hearing and view, her attention went back to her fiance. “Do you think she’s ready?”

“Ara Haruka, you’ve helped train her. Don’t doubt your skills so.”

“Yeah but, this is different. I know she can fight, she’s effective. She’s held her own against the Darkness and dispatched them. It doesn’t sound like the Moon has much left if they are agreeing to such desperation. Maybe… maybe we should go there.”

“The Queen is relying on us from keeping more from coming in, we have to trust in the rest. If we’re needed we’ll be contacted and we’ll be there. She has hope that Minako will be enough with everything, or she would have sent for you and I.”

Heaving a sigh she pulled a hand through her hair; Michiru always was a voice of reason. “I know. I’m still going to miss her though.”

“Ara, you two are sides of the same coin, shifting between similarity and opposing facets. She’ll do well.” The letter was offered to her, the one that had been opened already. Reading through the lines of greetings, it contained a brief summary of the current status. Earth was down to just pockets of civilization, the Moon held perhaps two hundred soldiers with another hundred in various stages of recovery, but thirty of them would never be able to fight again. Supplies were limited; they were not on rations simply because there were not that many alive to use them.

She felt like sighing and did so, reading on.

Some promising news from Mercury who managed to come up with something that allowed Darkness patches to be found before they burst open. Unfortunately they lacked the resources to mass produce them thanks to the War Machine, but sent over five that so far had worked beyond expectation. If they could get more resources, they could outfit not only the remaining Lunarian forces, but the Premier’s armies as well.

Finally it stated what Minako’s status would be; in between the lines the hope for success.

A lot was relying on the Premier.

“I don’t like this reliance. They’re all crippled because the fucking War Machine can’t leave people well enough alone. Then those damn Ruin Terramancers follow along and tear up the land so any survivors are just fucked up.” Shaking her head the letter was stuffed into a pocket, out of sight but not out of mind.

“What would you do first, if you were there.”

“Me?” A laugh, it felt good to do so. “Have someone watch me so I don’t murder the Premier in her sleep. Then I’d purge one planet at a time and work from there. Otherwise they’ll be fighting on too many fronts that any progress they make will be negated by a single loss.”

Maybe they were fortunate, that what they had to deal with was something they could handle. Between Michiru’s mirror and her sword, things didn't stand a chance. It made her want to go to the Moon more and more, yet she knew doing so would be against her duty, and undermine the confidence she had in Minako in doing what needed to be done.

“The Queen also sent a bottle of wine from Earth with the SigilRipper, a rather favored vintage that was found by one of the villages the last time a supply drop occurred.”

That was startling, blinking her eyes. “Wine?” Startling and not exactly expected, but it was welcomed graciously.

“I suppose it’s her way of saying thank you for all we’ve done for Minako’s sake. We should see her off; it may be some time before we get to see her again.”


	3. What Ails You, Kills You

The arrow whistled while it tore through the air, hitting the target soundly in the center with its impacting sound of metal to straw.

It did nothing to satisfy her.

The second arrow followed the same trajectory path, splitting the first one neatly in two. So did the third, and any other that could have been loosened if the metal arrowheads were not allowing themselves to be easily stacked.

This was not what she wished to do.

Lowering the bow she glowered all the same as the whispered murmurs rose up, congratulating her on her archery. She would have glowered even if the helmet on her head didn’t cover her face, but it's snarling depiction was accurate for how she felt. Restlessness did not become her, and another thought was given to collecting a clean camp follower to fuck.

Thankfully she was saved by the sound of running feet; mail and plate always had unique sounds when combined with leather. Turning her head slightly she caught sight of the hurried bow, dropping to a knee and a letter offered. The words came next, “A letter, Premier!”

This would work.

Her bow was handed off to whichever retainer it was for the hour, snatching the letter a turn was given to either side; still sealed, while her free hand errantly gestured for the messenger to rise. Her gaze focused on him; young and strong with the desire to rise up in the ranks, and at once he responded, the crowd silent. “A SigilRipper from Earth’s Moon appeared outside the encampment, bearing this for you.”

The Moon… could it be?

A thumb flicked and broke open the seal, eyes quickly reading the contents. It was almost too good to be true and she felt her lips curl to a cruel smirk. Another reason to be happy for her helmet.

A new voice though, “Premier. The King requests your presence.” One of the apprentices that served the GhostHexers. A pretty face she recalled, if it wasn’t for the far too large nose and the annoying way that she breathed through her mouth.

Yes of course,  _ he’d  _ already know.

A curt nod was all she offered, turning to walk to where the GhostHexers awaited with their imagery magic. “See that the SigilRipper is allowed to rest. House him away from our own.” Direct words, the order was clear. He would be allowed to rest and recoup, for ripping portals was tiring and dangerous work. By keeping him separate from her own army’s SigilRippers so would the rumors stay low throughout her camp.

The King first though, he probably wanted a status report.

As she walked she belted her sword belt back on, feeling moderately more at ease. From the sword or the prospect of action it was hard to tell, her steps sure through the orderly rows. She returned salutes and bows with a gesture of her hand, finally stepping into one of the larger black and red tents among the rest.

A brazier of fire stood on either side of the two GhostHexers that held the projected image alive with their magics. Swathed in robes meant for battle, shades of gray and accented with bone white, they were imposing. Looking much like the ghost they took their name from, either was perfectly still, hands held before them as their attention was held on the magics used to allow such things. Waiting for the tent flap to close the inside turned dark again, lit by the flames and blue-ish imagery of her father.

Or perhaps better, the King.

Projected or not, he was a striking figure. Towering comfortably above others, the years had turned his black hair gray, especially at the temples. The kept goatee that she despised was equally shot through, eyes hard and not at all surprised for her to converse with him fully armed and armored.

There was no exchange of pleasantries. “What is this I hear of you speaking to the Lunar Queen.”

“I accepted an offer presented to me.” Cool, short and to the point. She did not enjoy talking to him about much of anything. Rather, she preferred to be left alone so she could do what she did best.

Which was cause for her current extensionalist crisis.

The imagery captured his snort perfectly, “And the Great Power of Mars is gaining what out of this?”

Oh, an actual question. That was a rather unique event. “The Queen of the Moon sees her problem solved for what remains of her alliance. In return, I collect the tribute so owed to us. In addition, we will have accurate intelligence to completely subjugate them to rule. We save what is left of their lives, in turn they are willing subjects.”

He remained silent as he mulled it over. In all technicalities and rules, the Army was her to do with as she wished as Premier. She did not need his permission, much less blessing, but at times things went a bit smoother if the King agreed. 

It was a gamble sure, for if, some outlandish reason, her army was destroyed it would cripple Mars, for only reserve forces and those in long term infirmaries remained. Enough to handle any threats that arose; plenty of those, and to buy time should another planet try invading. They had a working agreement with Jupiter for instance, and could rely on them while the Army was sent from wherever it was to where it was needed.

“Very well,” at last something was said. “Keep me informed as you will.”

The imagery faded. She waited a few moments more before addressing either GhostHexer. “Speak not of this to anyone, else find your bones decorating another.” Both nodded and that was all that mattered, turning to exit the tent.

The day was still young, but she wanted the privacy she only ever managed to get when it was night. Too many respected and feared her position, which meant no matter what, someone was always wanting to show off for her favor. Having a campaign would put idle hands to purpose, and give her some peace of mind or the illusion of it. Ignoring everything else she strode directly to her tent; wanting to reread the letter to savor the desperation there.

Or at least find a way to shake the ill feeling that had been surrounding her as of late.

Stepping inside she let the sigh escape, closing her eyes to appreciate silence for what it was. The din of noise that an army produced was muffled to something easily ignorable. Freed of responsibility at least for some time, her hands had her helmet off in record time.

Black hair, kept in an elaborate braid found itself even freed of that. Setting the protective piece off to the stand that awaited such collections, she strode further inside. Phobos and Deimos were not present, leaving the place entirely to herself. She did not command them about; a rarity given everyone else operated off of orders, for numerous reasons. Manifested spirits of Mars’ twin moons, few were ever fortunate to encounter them, much less have their companionship.

There was something about them that felt familiar, in a fashion she couldn’t quite fathom or explain. When she made mention of it to them, either woman just shrugged, vivid blue eyes giving nothing away as they always did.

Casting gloves aside, she was quick to take advantage of the water basin within, a soft cloth drying them quickly before snapping her fingers. The candles that had not been lit flared to life at the command, illuminating the tent’s confines.

She had seen it a thousand times, and would see it for a thousand more. She simply didn’t care, unbuckling her armor to set aside, clothes as well, until she stood blissfully naked. Across the thick rugs she walked, completely unashamed, to collect her favored robe and equally favored chair.

There, it was time to read.

It was a short letter, any shorter and she could find offense. Any longer and she may have dismissed it outright. The handwriting was perfection; she could find no flaw in either penmanship nor creases in the parchment. The Lunar Queen agreed, she would supply the SigilRippers on the appointed date; she had to smirk though. Her name day. How fitting that.

After all was said and done, the threat held eliminated, she would plunder every single planet of that alliance and free herself of the obligations she did not ask for.

The smile that came to her lips was meant, despite how small it was.

She would tell the others in the evening, and perhaps those plans for mindless fuckery would still occur. There were countless that wanted to please her in any capacity possible, and the favor they desired allowed her the outlet for any debasement she wanted to explore. Even if she found little satisfaction with it; a contradictory nature of wanting control but wanting to give it to another, it would combat the loneliness she otherwise felt.

A sigh. She would need to work this out of her system before the meeting. The Army expected their Premier in top condition and she had no choice but to give that to them. They won her conquests; she provided the means to glory.

The letter set aside found her gaze fixed on her toes, debating silently about nothing before her tent flap opened. That required her eyes to raise, even an eyebrow following, before the intruders made themselves known. Of similar height to herself, Phobos and Deimos swept into the tent on soft soled boots, barely making a sound outside of their clothing and the rustling of beads and feathers. They carried no arms though she long suspected they were more than capable in a fight.

Truth be told at times she had a hard time telling them apart if they did not give her the clues. Sometimes it was in the style of their hair, others it was a certain charm hanging amid the others that decorated the belts they wore. Her best bet was always when they spoke, but a feeling told her they could sound perfectly alike if they truly wanted to.

They both had deep, captivating blue eyes that she felt like she  _ should  _ know, somehow. Like she had seen them before but could not recall the time or place. Hauntingly familiar was the best she could attribute it to. When pressing either for any idea of  _ why  _ she would know, all she received were shrugs. They weren’t omnipresent, but as she suspected they held some degree of it, they just chose to not reveal everything.

She broke the silence first, “The Lunar Queen has agreed to my terms; the Army will leave in just over a fortnight.”

A silent nod as either stood a respectable distance from her. She likened it to judgement more often than not.

“I want you both to stay on Mars.”

There, that brought about a reaction.

“You do not wish for our council?” Deimos questioned, her voice soft and sounding almost disappointed in the decision made.

“It will be dangerous, likely. It seems it is a rather large threat she has asked for assistance with.”

“We are capable of defending ourselves Rei.” Phobos. How long had it been since she heard herself addressed as anything but Premier?

Too long, she almost forgot it was her name and tried to recall if she told either one just what exactly her name  _ was.  _ They mean well, she wanted to tell herself. They just are concerned for her safety. Maybe any other time, had circumstances been different and her soul did not feel so chaotic, she would have relented and welcomed their company.

Right now though.

Her gaze narrowed, flames wanting nothing more to dance along her fingertips before casting either woman into ash. It was only because they were so … so …  _ respected, _ that she did not. Even the  _ King _ regarded them with great honor and reverence, so rare were times they chose to speak to anyone, much less provide themselves in the manner they had.

She was in a foul mood, one that the prospect of bloodshed and tribute and debasing others for her passions and pleasures could not alleviate. “My word is  _ final.  _ Begone from my sight.” No threat was issued; they knew what she was capable of, robe or not. Fire was hers to command, to dance and burn at her want. A sword just made it fun.

Either took a look at each other then back at her, almost daring. Almost damning with their serene looks, before they turned and left the way they arrived.

Some part of her, much later, would lament that it was a rather large mistake that she just made.


	4. The Melodics of Madness

It was through reminding herself near constantly to take a deep breath that she kept the panic at bay. It was a harrowing, destructive thing to do. Signing away the lives of everyone left and their livelihoods just for the prospective chance that they could survive. No one had ever said wearing a crown was easy, for decisions like these required her to make them. Consequences always had to be weighed and sometimes it really was the lesser of two evils she went with.

For a moment she frowned, awaiting the arrival of the Premier and her armies. That was worth a frown yes but it was not the main cause. This act was all to buy time. If she needed time that badly she had options of course, but she did not pursue them. The lesser of two evils, subjugate those left alive to become enslaved instead of letting them be killed.

Hardly fair.

It was a hope then, one carefully cultivated with time and considerable effort. The planted seed had bloomed; perhaps the blossom was not quite as beautiful as it could  _ have  _ been, but it was beautiful all the same.

Minako would snort and roll her eyes at such a comparison likely. The Premier had left her mark, physically and otherwise, and they were not soon to heal over or fade.

This was buying time that Artemis could find the Crystal left somewhere on the desolate planet. That Minako’s leadership; tempered by Haruka, could rein in both Premier and Terramancer. From there they had a chance, fleeting to be sure, yet if anyone could give the instruction of how to handle the headstrong and far too cocky Martian, it truly was Haruka.

With Mars and Jupiter in line, there was a minute chance it would be enough. The Darkness could be completely driven back and peace restored. With peace in place, the rebuilding could begin along with the re-population. It would take years, generations really, to correct the destruction caused by both the Darkness and War Machine. Certainly it would take beyond her lifetime, and that of her daughter, and likely her own heir, before anything substantial occurred.

Of course there was another route, but that was truly the last resort. If signing their lives away to the War Machine was already considered an act of utmost, supreme desperation… 

Well, that would be considered lunacy. Lunacy and madness.

“Your Highness, it’s nearly time.” She heard a voice at her shoulder, matching it to one of Serenity’s nursemaids. With so few left alive, many were pulling multiple duties with different hats to wear. The girl, Ca’leigh, was no exception to it.

Yes, she supposed it was time.

She would greet the Premier alone, deciding to have Luna and who existed in the interim as the Lunar commander stay back. Their forces were no match for the Premier’s armies, so why even present the facade in the first place?

“Stay here child. It’s better for you if you stay out of sight.” The nursemaid was attractive, a young girl who just had her sixteenth name day two months ago. She knew full well that the Premier had an  _ inclination  _ towards pretty things, and if the rumors were true, she often engaged in sexual acts considered humiliating, if not outright barbaric in nature. Some people were into it sure, but all of the Premier’s  _ toys  _ were left scarred and broken, if not dead. It didn’t matter the gender though the same rumors said lately her provicilities had shifted to women.

Threads of regret were weaving into her tapestry. She was asking a victim of sorts to face her attacker once more and actually command her.

Madness.

The reply came back demurely spoken, “As you wish Your Highness.”

“I mean it Ca’leigh, the Martians will out number us countless to one, the odds beyond compare. It’s not just the Premier that concerns me; her armies are equally as perverse. You deserve more in life than that.”

The blush across the young girl’s features fought with the sense of horror in her eyes. She knew, and while curiosity was a powerful force… “I’ll … I’ll stay away.”

There wasn’t a need to say that it was for her own good, the girl would pay heed to the warning hopefully. If not… it wasn’t something she cared to think about. She did yes but she could also only do so much. Gathering herself she swept from the tent, stepping out to Lunar soil. The guards, what was left of the army, came to attention at once. A soft smile and a wave to them in acknowledgement and there was Luna and the highest ranking soldier they had. A mere Banner Sergeant, she knew his name as she knew the names of all those who came before him.

“Banner Sergeant Fayiz, you will stay with the Lady Luna while I meet with the Premier. Tell the men that likely, the Martians will try to intimidate them; they need to know to stand their ground. I do not believe that they will attempt any provoking, but neither do I believe that the Premier will be happy once she learns of the arrangements. If there is any sign of fighting, tell Luna at once if I am not near.” Addressing the Banner Sergeant, a young man in his late teens, she felt another pang of remorse. By all rights he should be but a simple Bannerman for a few more years. His seniority though saw him promoted above his peers.

Not that there were many left.

Fayiz spoke in a hesitant fashion, always unsure of himself. Really he was not the  _ ideal  _ candidate but he was a candidate all the same. The remaining Bannermen had voted for him to the position and truly, that was that. “If.. I mean ok… I mean yes Your Majesty.” Stumbling and stuttering over his words he nodded quickly and all but flew to where the remains of the Lunar Army stood.

Her gaze followed and so did she notice Luna’s as well. He was going to be walked over; she could only hope the SigilRipper was successful in meeting Haruka and Minako. Otherwise this, like many other things, would be a disaster.

The air took on a charge, clothing and hair began reacting to the change within the nature around them. She heard men shift uneasily, the occasional whiny and pawing snort from a horse. Her eyes beheld the field in front of her as slowly, a purple and green swirl manifested itself. Spinning almost lazily at first it took but two blinks of her eyes before it spun faster in a counterclockwise fashion.

Hands, large fists appeared at the edges. The same swirling color as the portal itself they seemed to pull at the energy, enlarging it until a gateway, twenty feet wide and the same in height stabilized.

The army that marched forth was in perfect coordination and formation. Black and red, they stood out among the white and grays of the Lunar army and the greens of the fields they walked upon. At the edges she caught sight of the SigilRippers who kept the gateway open.

In droves they appeared, an involuntary swallow. It was a swarm, so very many, so countless that took up position with barked, brutally sounding commands.

Thoughts that this was a mistake were already too commonplace.

On horseback the Premier languidly rode through, the sneering, demonic visage that made up her helmet focused instantly on her as the armies continued to spill from the rupture in the fabric of reality. She did not look away, even when the portal at last closed. Not even when, a few moments later, a man rode up to her side.

“The second, eighth, and tenth cohorts are unaccounted for, along with five divisions and three regiments belonging to the seventh and eleventh bands, Premier.” He spoke in sharp Common; she was thankful as her Martian needed considerable work. She doubted at first he was a Martian, or perhaps, not what they considered a civilized one. Red hair like his was from one of their few remaining native tribes, people that hadn’t yet, somehow, been caught up in the War Machine.

She’d call it interesting but there was more to be had.

The Premier said nothing still, the silent standoff continuing. She could do the math as well; just shy of two hundred thousand men. Gone, just like that in the blink of an eye.

She broke the gaze first at Bors’ outraged and anguished cry. From one SigilRipper to the next he ran, trying to account for his missing.

Two hundred thousand to three.

“This has cost me quite a number of men. This had better be worth my while.” The Premier’s voice was remorseless, echoing a metallic, muffled sound. She  _ didn’t  _ care; the loss considered perhaps trivial and unimportant. It was only mentioned as a point of additional  _ debt  _ that she would collect on.

Bors immediately took a step forward, the Saturian ready to raise his voice about what loss was really like. She understood, she  _ did,  _ and this was not the time. It did not make it any easier, this personal loss in comparison to the impersonal one. It was that, wasn’t it? The Premier had countless at her call and command; life was sacred and they were down to but meager numbers.

It had to account for  _ something. _

Luna’s hand met Bors’ arm, collecting the man to draw him away. They were surrounded at once by the remaining SigilRippers that survived the journey and the injured that remained on the Lunar surface. Her heart ached; she should go to offer sympathies, but it would need to wait.

The Premier merely gestured, the man next to her barked out the orders corresponding. “Set camp! Band and Cohort Commanders will meet upon completion!”

The Martian army set to a flurry of activity, breaking formation to fulfill their orders with precision and long held experience. They were staying; that was  _ something,  _ but to help or conqueror remained to be seen. The reins were handed to the man as the Premier dismounted, striding to where the Lunar army stood.

Fear.

She followed after hurriedly; this was not how she intended or planned it to occur yet here it was. The Premier looked at the small group, that helmet giving nothing away, “Who is in charge.” It wasn’t a question, she doubted that the woman knew how to ask one anyway.

Fayiz took a step forward, wide eyed and shaking, answering all the same. “I ... I am.”

Oh how disbelief could be so displayed. She watched, some small, inside and hidden part of her took great joy in watching as the Premier did a double take so hard she nearly lost her balance. That the Martian went so far as to pull off her helmet and get a better stare at Fayiz was gleeful.

The years had been kind to her, really. A year or two shy of her thirtieth name day, the Premier of Mars was a strikingly beautiful woman. Raven hair done in intricate braids didn’t even show the infamous ‘helmet hair’ that all were plagued by when wearing such things. A pale complexion, sharp nose, and lips seemingly set to a permanent frown of displeasure set the rest.

And eyes a shade of amethyst always drew willing  _ toys  _ to her conquests. There was a rumor that the Premier may still be a virgin, that she committed the acts she did as mere power plays. That she wouldn’t give up that part of herself to anyone.

Rumors were born of certain truths. The question was how and who interpreted it.

“This is absurd. A mere boy is in charge. Rooks! See what this lot can do.” She called out sharply to the red head man, turning her attention back to the Lunar army. “I am the Premier of Mars, and name myself your Impera-”

“No.” 

If she thought the Premier looked amazed before, the surprise on her face now was all the more fitting. Perhaps it was because it could be seen was the real reason. She watched as the woman blinked, features and emotions unguarded and so freely shown. “No?” An actual question formed on her lips.

“You shall not be named Imperator.” It felt, daresay, almost  _ good  _ to deny the woman something. The Premier was a spoiled brat in many regards; everything came easy to her to master. Used to getting her way, if her armies could not gain it then her Crystal would. She watched as the woman’s eyes narrowed as she  _ dared  _ tell her such things.

“Is that so.”

“The title of Imperator has already been decided, they will be arriving shortly.” At least she hoped so. If it had been Haruka or Michiru, they would be protected from the Darkness by sheer possession of their Crystals. As this was Minako though, there would still be a huge reliance upon a SigilRipper for teleportation. She continually prayed that Artemis could find the Venusian Crystal but as the years trudged onward her ability to hope grew rather dim.

They were not alone. The aide to the Premier stood by, along with the apparent cohort and band commanders. Each bore a stoic enough expression that ensured they wished nothing more than to rip her asunder in their leader’s name. Fayiz seemed ready to expel the contents of his stomach, a pale face and rapidly moving eyes. He stood his ground at the least.

At least, they could die on their feet if it came to it.

“Heed my words. The moment your  _ Imperator  _ arrives, I demand a match. If they manage to best me in a spar, my armies and I shall acknowledge them as Imperator and follow until this is finished. However, if the situation is reversed and I am victor, you all shall die by my sword. On the spot, where you stand.” The Premier all but spit and snarled the words out, her voice ringing clear for not only her commanders to hear but everyone else of importance. “Do you agree to these terms or shall my armies depart?”

“You’re being here constitutes an agree-”

“My being here constitutes nothing! You have cost me  _ two hundred thousand able bodied Martians, _ which is far more than your meager two banners of men! Now you deny me title which is mine by sheer military  _ might!” _

A nerve.

The hesitation of her answer was not for the Premier’s shrieking, but rather the knowledge that  _ everything  _ was going to rest in Minako’s hands. Teleportation sickness was a thing; Minako was considered a non-augmented human if she had to be scientific about it. She would arrive, tired for certain and sick as a possibility, and the Premier was demanding a match the very moment she stepped from the portal.

“Answer me, else we are leaving.”

She fervently hoped Haruka had trained her well, that Michiru was able to supply Minako with a few life sustaining tricks under her sleeve. They were much closer to Saturn, there was always a possibility that something magical in nature had been purchased.

“When the Imperator has arrived, you’ll have your match.”

A smirk was the response she received, the woman striding off to where great tents were already being erected as her aide had directed. The Martian army was here to stay at least, until it all could be sorted out. 

Her gaze turned to Fayiz as he drug his hand across his face. Meeting her gaze he gulped, steadying himself from the exchange. He was not the best choice, but he was the choice that they all had. It’d have to be enough.

“Fayiz, see your men back to their camp. Our salvation should be arriving tomorrow.” The man was grateful for the opportunity to escape the situation, harrowing as it was. In hesitant commands he dismissed the remaining forces, many of whom lingered to converse quietly among themselves.

Just over two banners of men, and perhaps a dozen more existed on Earth. The Lunar army had been reduced to seventy-two fighting men, with twenty in various stages of care and recovery. Of that twenty, eight would never walk again, much less wield a weapon, and two still had their fates in hands not their own if they would live to see tomorrow. That left ten that could possibly return to service, but they would never be the same again.

In the blink of an eye the War Machine could wipe them all out. The Premier could do it easily, and her own powers could only provide so much to stop that.

Her reprieve, really,  _ her life _ , came in the form of a single match. There was everything to win and even more to lose. She felt sick, swallowing was hard as though her tongue had swollen and turned somehow to iron. Graces be watchful and protective, there simply was not a choice to be had. Minako  _ had  _ to win. She simply  _ had  _ to. It didn’t matter the odds.

The afternoon breeze carried a few of the flowers that grew still on what was once teeming with life. The fragrance reminding her of summer days, of youth forgotten. When things were different.

She almost wished the scent was death instead.

Taking in a deep breath, she turned to walk away. She still needed to lend a sympathetic presence to Bors for his loss, still needed to plan with Luna just what they were to do. Perhaps there would be a missive from Artemis with discovery. Perhaps Minako had snuck in and was currently curled up in a chair soundly sleeping, oblivious to the exchange that took place.

Perhaps she would wake up in those summer days when things were so very much different.


	5. Hopes of the Idealist

Stepping into swirling murkiness with no real idea what was on the other side was harrowing, or maybe it would have been if she didn’t know what would await her on the other side of this temporal gateway. To say she had no hesitation or trepidation would be a lie; she knew what she was getting into. Just as she knew she was doing this willingly. Of course, it probably did not help when you knew a woman with premonitions and a mirror to help show them. Still, she would be thankful for each and every trick she bore, as it would likely be the only way she’d survive.

She had nothing to promise her safety of gateway travel, just the skill and luck of the SigilRipper. Certainly there was one thing she could have done to increase her success rate, but that particular ability and mean was out of her grasp and had been for literal years. It was better not to think of it and instead, it was just better to make it through this and everything else.

The rugged landscape of Uranus, with its jutting mountain peaks and majestic trees, gave way to more level, almost tranquil views as she stepped through. What was once lush grass covered rather flat land, a few trees lingered but it was nothing at all like where she had been. It smelled different too, the wind heavy with despair and the scent of smoke.

Smoke, fire, desperation. This would be the place.

That she made it here was a miracle in its own right, feeling a lingering sense of tiredness wash over her, followed by a hollow pang for food. There wasn’t a point in drawing attention to the minor ring she wore that was helping to prevent all this; she was simply glad it  _ worked. _

If things were adhering to schedule then…

On cue her eyes passed over the Martian army, standing both attentively and at ease. They had formed a circle of sorts, somewhat loose but ready to be closed at the blink of an eye.

Michiru was right. She supposed she’d have to tell the Neptunian that, as though her ego needed such confirmations.

The SigilRipper stepped out beside her, taking a look around before he quickly hurried away. There wasn’t a point or reason to blame him; hell she’d have done the same thing. A murmur seemed to rise up but it was difficult to ascertain the manner in which it was given life. No one seemed to want to be in charge but neither did she think that simply walking past them was going to be an option.

Maybe something would happen. She was getting tired of carrying her pack as it was.

Activity then in the form of soldiers reluctantly parting, allowing the Queen to hurry forth. There was a lot to be said for things like that; royalty running meant it was something serious. How often did things like that happen in the first place, a thought for another time as right now seemed to be busy.

Queen Serenity of the Moon had been an ageless woman, so the rumors went, but only before the Darkness came. She seemingly aged overnight, or at least since the  _ last  _ time she had seen her; ages ago it felt like, and no amount of powders would hide the worry. It would to her face certainly, but her eyes gave it all away.

As to be expected for one who lost everything. That was a fact she well knew.

Her hands shifted her pack around, aware of another bout of activity that she ignored. Preparing to offer a bow, at the least, she was embraced instead. Stiffening immediately; she had  _ reasons,  _ the Queen did not notice and importantly, did not call attention to the fact that she felt out of sorts. It was a smile instead, a look of desperate hope shining through tears that she was offered.

That and a loudly cleared throat.

Right. Michiru mentioned this bit.

“I’m sorry… I tried for more time but it wasn’t meant to be.” The Queen spoke to her hurriedly, taking the pack from her arms like a common place servant would. “I’m sure you’ve been told of this, that this would occur. The stakes are higher, I’m afraid. If you lose, we’re to be put to the sword.”

That sounded rather typical, all things considering. Offering a bare shrug that would do nothing to put anyone at ease she glanced at the now attentive Martian army and their created circle. Purposely her eyes skimmed  _ past  _ the one awaiting her presence rather impatiently, looking back to the Queen instead. “We’ll talk more later.”

It was best to leave it at that.

There was history here, between them as she strode forward, knowing that the army would close back around to prevent her escape. A lot of history, more so than the Premier realized at the moment and ideally would not realize anytime remotely soon. It took a calming breath, then another, rallying herself internally to face long standing fears and torments like this. Haruka had trained her well but no one could really prepare her for something like this all the same.

The Premier said nothing but she was willing to bet that her eyes were rolling, hidden behind that scowling helmet of hers. Probably snorting too over her lack of an apparent weapon and the clothing she wore that would not protect her from a sword.

Haruka was going to be a bad influence if she didn’t take this a bit more seriously.

Her stance shifted, presenting her profile at an angle as she kept her arms loose at her sides. Speed was her reliance; she didn’t have the strength to use more than a dagger and armor was completely out of the question thanks to the other woman. Someone could say she was going to wear the Premier out but she knew better. The sun would burn out before the Martian commander ever admitted to being tired.

No, to win she was going to need to be smarter.

She watched as that wicked blade was used to gesture with, likely calling attention to the fact she was without arms, without armor, and this would be over soon. There was probably notion made of the sheer audacity she dared to present, and she didn’t care. Her hands went to either bracer that decorated her forearms, intricately designed with pleasing patterns to the eye they came just short of her knuckles, hinged at the wrist. Checking to make sure each one was just so her hands fell to her waist, running wrapped fingers along her belt before she brought her hands back up in a loose stance.

A dagger and the rod. She was as set as she could be.

The Premier wasted no time, striding forward with confidence but not hurriedly. If the rumor mill held any degree of truth, she often didn’t fight. That wasn’t to say she was rusty or to be taken any less seriously. It really meant that she was going to be a hot head and the fabled Martian temper would make an appearance likely which was what she needed to have happen.

The first few sword swings she stepped aside from, her gaze focused on that damnable woman before her. She couldn’t see any indication due to the helmet, but she could imagine only too well. An overhead downswing and she moved, catching the wrist and quickly grabbing the other from the anticipated punch.

Her strength was not going to allow her to maintain the hold and she didn’t seek to, releasing the Premier’s right hand she shuffled to the left. Pushing down on the captured sword hand, her left foot rose, kicking high with the pivot to land soundly on the back of that snarling visage.

Releasing the hold as she moved behind her, she knew she’d only have time for this once. A solid front kick was delivered to the back of her leg, aiming for the left before she backed away as the Premier turned, sword first and seeking her flesh. As it found air it swung again, invading her space in such ways that blocking was her only option. Each blow was jarring in its own right, feeling her teeth rattle from both blade and fist, knees and feet joining in.

This wasn’t going to work.

Side stepping, maybe it was almost a run, she put a bit of distance between them. Dimly she overheard the crowd and its disapproval for not continuing to stand there and take it, promptly ignoring it to instead go on the offensive.

A spinning kick caught the downward swing, the sole of her boot stopping the arcing slice right at the wrist. Almost a checking blow she pressed on, forcing the Premier to be defensive for once as each kick followed a pattern that she purposely changed up. Haruka fought dirty, she knew the Premier would as well, and honor had no place on the battlefield. At the same though, she couldn’t afford to humiliate the Martian; she was  _ needed,  _ and she needed her to submit.

She almost danced around the armored woman, kicks delivered without care. Forgetting herself she even lodged a solid one against her ass, watching as the Martian stumbled forward before turning with fury barely restrained.

That would work.

The sword came quicker now, slicing through the air so she could pay for her indignant action. Checking each one she smirked; it wasn’t like it could be seen given the cowl and headress wrapped around her own features, but it felt  _ good.  _ It felt great to be at this point, at last and finally.

It was equally as dangerous as she felt a line of fire at her side, the knife raised to reacquaint itself with more of her blood.

Right, that…

A solid, front kick levied itself against the other’s stomach. The armor would prevent most damage of course, but in this instance, she just needed her to stumble a moment and perhaps bend forward. Throwing herself backwards into a flip, she purposely ensured that her booted foot caught the Premier right under that arrogant chin, and for good measure, a mere handful of seconds later her other foot did as well.

Landing on her hands she was quick to spring up to her feet, wasting no time. Rushing forward, she caught the oncoming swing and yanked the Premier’s arm towards her, turning to present her back to the other. Kicking back, she hooked her ankle and pulled forward, flipping the Martian over her shoulder and to the compacted ground below their feet. At one point grass had grown there but now sparse tufts remained.

Righting, her heel ground down on the armored wrist, dislodging her sword for her foot to clip under. Kicking it up in the air she caught it, grimacing from the memories associated. 

This part was important.

She turned again, and walked off. The Martian army stood in various stages of disbelief, the remainder of the Lunar one about to cheer. Her gaze caught sight of the Queen, and the look of abject horror spreading across her features.

That meant…

She spun around, her free hand collecting the rod tucked behind her back at her belt. A simplistic thing, it was a smooth cylinder of dull gray. She recalled when Michiru handed it to her, prompting a discussion.

_ “You two didn’t … use this for anything, right?” Her fingertips, despite her hands being covered, held the rod gingerly, just imagining all sorts of … things … that the item could have been used for. _

_ “Ara, Minako, we did not.” A giggle from the woman, a shift in that otherwise rather professionally smug demeanor. Her gaze went to her fiance who was trying to puzzle out the nature of the conversation. “But maybe we should have...” _

_ “Ugg no. Just tell me what this does.” _

_ “She won’t take well to it, and she’ll let you know with a burst of flame your way. This will absorb it and other magical things directed your way, storing them until you consciously decide to release it. The Adept I purchased it from who crafted it said it would hold a dozen such attacks before you will need to use them. Otherwise, it will detonate in your hands.” _

Holding it aloft she felt the flames of the fireball cast her way, heating the very air she breathed in a super concentrated plume of fire. Standing her ground was already hard enough, and she swore Michiru was crazy along with Haruka for even suggesting the idea.

But the rod worked.

The flames dissipated and she could  _ feel  _ the power of the attack humming throughout the barely foot long rod as she slowly lowered it, refusing to take her gaze off the Premier who had risen to a knee, arm outstretched from the attack.

How she wished she could see the look on her face that was showcased behind that snarling visage. She’d bet that it was anything  _ but. _

Raising the Premier’s sword in the air she drew in a deep breath before yelling, “I am your Imperator! I will lead you to both Glory and Death in such that bards will sing of your deeds for ages to come, in the name of the Lunar Queen!” 

Pointing the sword in a circle she faced the Premier again, daring her to object, to say  _ something,  _ to do  _ anything.  _ Lowering it with a reversing hold, she stabbed it down into the ground before turning to walk away.


	6. Where Darkness Spreads

She stood easily enough, ignoring that a rather sure to be glowering Premier was none too far behind her. A new day had dawned and with it was due to be the arrival of the Mercurian Scholar. Being rather out of the loop for over a decade about what had transpired, it took her some time to catch up and even then, she wasn’t completely.

But that would change, eventually. As long as she had patience and her life.

The Queen had spoken, well into the night prior, of the events that transpired. That Ami was on her way with fantastical news of something she had created. The Mercurians were crafty like that, recalling somewhat through the haze of memories otherwise repressed. Technologically the most advanced coming trade off of being among the most dependent on outside resources.

Half a mind was given to asking the Premier if she had sacked Mercury. It wouldn’t do to ask though when the truth was already there. There wasn’t a point, Ami was still alive, and dwelling on it further was going to send her to tears.

It wasn’t something she could afford. 

She needed the damnable Premier alive and following her orders. What happened after she didn’t care; really she was prepared to die just so she didn’t _have_ to deal with the after. She was functioning sure, but there was a reason why she avoided more than the scant amount of sleep she got in the first place. It was bad enough she had to see it in the mirror or when she bathed.

No, she was ready to be dead when it was all said and done. But it wouldn’t be by the Premier’s hands if she had it her way.

It was a wonder she had kept it from Michiru. The woman, occasionally rather insufferable, had that annoying habit of _knowing_ things. Just how far she was able to delve and scry she didn’t know and it wasn’t like she wanted to find out. It was better to pretend that the other was ignorant despite knowing better.

A breeze ruffled her clothing, pulling a bit at the layers of cloth upon one another. Slipping through where something wasn’t layered _just right_ she was reminded that it was still early in the year. A shift brought to mind the bandage at her side, a line of fire thanks to the Premier. Thankfully it just required a simple dressing and her hand at sewing the tear in material back together. It didn’t make her happy though, but she had gotten cocky in the fight and it was deserved.

She heard a snort, echoing from the depths of that stupid, snarling visage. The Premier hadn’t shifted at all; her armor would give it away if she had, and likely was finding it irritating that she, of all people, had lost to someone who didn’t care for a cool breeze.

The Premier was going to have to get over it, her attention rising with the beginning signs of a portal opening. It was always fascinating to watch things like it, magic of a visible sort. Maybe it was because she didn’t have such abilities, not able to send a torrent of water at a target or disrupt the very ground beneath its feet. Jealousy could be like that, the portal becoming further distinct before ripping open.

She had never seen Mercury before. Buildings unlike anything she could ever imagine filled the background, the ground that of gray stone that hardly looked natural. There were no people present but colorful displays of rapidly moving images filled in where people _could_ have been.

The SigilRipper stepped forward first, off to the side. Probably another one that would run the moment they saw the Premier. Sounds that were not native to the Moon were easy to pick out; a loud voice with a tinny quality to it spoke in a rather dispassionate tone, the words not something she could translate.

The portal hung there, open, but not a single soul stepped from it.

She frowned; while she never met the Scholar she understood, thanks to the Queen, just who she was. In possession of the Mercury Crystal, it wasn’t like teleportation mishaps could kill her like everyone else who was rather ordinary. The SigilRipper picked up on the unnatural aspect presented and turned to peer back _into_ the portal as though their eyes could discern what theirs could not.

“This is wasting my time _Imperator.”_

Right on cue the Premier spoke up. She wasn’t going to rise to the bait however, ignoring her presence as best she could while continuing to look into a life that wasn’t hers. The SigilRipper turned to look at her, perhaps noticing that they were there at last. “I don’t know what happened.” A young woman’s voice, the accent reminded her of Haruka. It wasn’t uncommon, just rare, that Uranians left their planet.

“How long can you keep this portal open?” She asked instead. The Scholar was critical, just as the Premier was, just like _every one of them were_. She would wait all day if she had to, attitudes be damned.

“Three hours safely. Anything more than that is dangerous.”

Another snort and finally the sound of plate. The Premier had no patience for this or much of anything.

Anything further was prevented from following as a voice called out, “Sorry!” before the owner emerged, lugging behind her a crate. Wary of the portal but equally of the Premier not finding her word worth upholding she quickly moved forward, grasping the crate to haul out of the tear between space and set on the Lunar surface. The Scholar turned, visibly relieved that the crate was no longer hindering her progress.

Looking more like a cross between some scientist’s coat and a military jacket, nothing about the Mercurian gave any indication of combat abilities. The moment her hands were free of the crate were they occupied by a miniature computer, typing away rapidly while she looked around through a thin set of transparent blue goggles.

If she didn’t know any better…

“Oh, you must be the Premier of Mars! This is all quite fascinating how-” Whatever else she had to say she honestly stopped paying attention to, ignoring the Scholar to look at the SigilRipper. Receiving a shrug in response she began to doubt the Queen’s words in regards to their new companion as the questions continued, before the Premier finally threw her hands up in the air and turned to stalk off.

“I’ve heard Martians are quite prone towards impatience. I had suspected by the fifth question she would lose all interest and leave. I’m rather amazed that she lasted until the seventh.” Instantly, the careless and socially awkward demeanor fell away, leaving the expected professionalism. “I am Ami of Mercury, one of the Scholar Ensigns. If I’m not mistaken, you’re acting in the capacity of Imperator for the Queen. Is it true that-”

She raised her hand, cutting her off, “There’s ears everywhere. Leave it at Imperator.” Maybe later, in privacy, but privacy wouldn’t exist once they actually left the Moon.

“Of course.” The response seemed to be what the blue haired woman was expecting, tucking the computer away to a deep pocket. The goggles vanished close to the same time. “Friwiw, my SigilRipper,” the woman inclined her head, “understands the value of secrecy. She’ll refer to you only as Imperator and I shall do the same.” A slower look around was given at the Lunar surface. “I didn’t imagine it was this bad. We knew conditions were deteriorating, but I believe none of us thought it reached the level it did.”

What really was there to say to that? There wasn’t, directing the conversation away instead. “Lets see what you’ve brought so we can get this whole thing underway.”

* * *

After directing two soldiers to collect the crate with a warning that it should not be jostled in any way or form, she brushed aside the heavy curtains that contained the Martian army’s command tent interior. Three maps of particular interest decorated the table surfaces; the rest were stacked up as not being usable or important at the moment. She had gathered every map in possession of the Queen and what the Martians had brought with them, spending the rest of the night, outside of two hours of sleep, sorting through them.

Some were of the surface; those came from the Queen, others were of various planets; mostly incomplete she was happy to notice, and a few of the system as a whole. The Scholar followed behind her, taking note of the maps meant for the Moon’s surface, a decently detailed map of the Earth, and one of the system. She didn’t say anything though, merely setting her pack aside as another soldier was sent to request the Premier’s presence.

The soldiers with the crate arrived first, gingerly setting it down with profuse promises that they hadn’t so much as breathed on it before they quickly backed away and out.

Giving the crate a look her gaze shifted to the Scholar who opened it with less consideration and care than should have been provided to it, given the warnings presented. “They won’t explode, and this case would prevent any mishaps to them anyway. I just didn’t want them to kick it around. If they weren’t durable enough to survive anticipated conditions, then they would be rather useless.”

“I care not for subterfuge _Scholar._ There will not be a next time.” The Premier’s voice rang out as she and her aide strode in. It caught the Mercurian off guard as she nearly dropped the device in her hand, floundering for words to perhaps explain herself.

“Enough.” Better to put a stop to it before it started. She gestured to the device, “Explain what these do.”

“R-right. We designed these to indicate where Pools of Darkness exist. While scouts have been mostly effective in discovering these locations, it would take them hours, if not months, to fully explore any given surface. As these Pools move, a scout’s work can be all for naught, not to mention that … coming into contact with Pools can lead to … undesirable results. These will project a beacon, giving at least the immediate direction of the closet Pool. We were hoping that we could have designed something more sophisticated, that could give a map, but…”

“But what.” The Premier sounded interested, maybe, it was hard to tell when she constantly wore armor and that damn helmet all the time, but it was a dangerous sound too.

The Scholar met her look head on, not backing down. “We receive most of our supplies from Earth. Earth is one of your favored planets to pillage and raze, is it not? We were lucky to be able to produce five of these, meaning that your armies will be blind to danger.”

“The War Machine is neither blind nor reliant on just five people _Scholar._ Nor are we uneducated in the nature of Darkness.”

She was going to get a headache if this continued. While she had been warned of attitudes and egos, it didn’t mean that she actually wanted to put up with either of them. Collecting the device from the other woman she broke up the impending fight. It looked simplistic enough, a small screen the size of her hand outstretched with two buttons just below it. Maybe as thick as her thumb, she turned it upside down and around before setting it on the table.

“Press the green button twice; the first time is to turn it on, the second is to start the scan. Pressing the blue button twice will cancel the scan and turn the device off. They are solar powered, but any light source equivalent to a torch will produce enough light to power it. It will need an hour of charging to last a twenty-four hour cycle for general use, while excessive and constant use will require more charging time.”

Rather than give a chance for any additional snarky comments to be made, she set the device on the table, pressing the green button twice. At first, the screen lit up in a soft blue, showing a simplistic grid format, before two red dots appeared on opposite sides. A soft beep accompanied them, something that was going to be easy to miss if it was raining or fighting. 

Ami was quick to pick the device up, looking at it and then the Lunar surface map. A dial on the side that she hadn’t noticed was flicked downwards, before she placed it down on the map again. “There’s two nearby,” pointing to the map. 

“What’s the range on these?” One was south west of the Palace, the other was to the east. That would still be a lot of distance to cover.

“It’ll cover the surface of any planet-” A third red dot appeared, followed by a fourth and fifth. A noticeable tension was growing in the tent as they awaited a sixth one, but none appeared. “There’s… that is to say, it will indicate all on the planet, or this case, satellite. The closest ones will appear as a larger circle, the ones most furthest away are smaller. We don’t have a way of indicating just how … large … they may be. This one here,” she gestured to the closest one, “may just be a single Pool, or it could be five or six of them.”

She was aware of too many eyes on her, too much implications. A thoughtful look was given to the map, then the scanner, before she picked up the markers supplied by the Martian army to indicate their forces. “Premier. You shall take a third of your forces and route the two by Mare Cognitum. I will lead another third towards the two by Mare Nectaris. I want the remaining third to be on alert, here, and ready; Pools move when they have been provoked and I suspect something will move towards the Palace. It’ll likely come by Mare Frigoris… the path of least resistance to the threat. Continue that way and obliterate anything in your path; my forces will do the same. We should converge here, “she pointed at the map and left a marker, “and take out the remaining Pools.”

Silence followed after her orders, the Premier looking at the map a moment longer before striding out of the tent. Her aide stayed longer, a thoughtful look to his face before he nodded. Handing him three of the scanners, he inclined his head before leaving as well, his voice cutting off as the tent flap closed behind him. 

“Do you want to stay here or follow along with someone?”

“I’ll go with you, if you don’t mind. I know that these things work; we used them on Mercury successfully. Where will you go next, after the Moon is cleansed?” 

“Earth, we’ll need supplies. The Martians brought enough for them for a while, but they’ll eat the Moon out of everything that still exists. I’m going to need the Ruin Terramancers though, before we leave for Earth. Otherwise this is just going to delay the inevitable.”


	7. The Victor's Laurels

She hadn’t seen anyone fight quite the way that the Imperator did. While it was true that watching  _ how  _ people fought was not something she regularly did, it was something she  _ had  _ studied if for no other reason than to have done so. It was beneficial that she was here, truly in more ways than one. While the Martian Army understood the common tongue, they worked better following Martian directives. Martian wasn’t something the Imperator knew beyond a few words that she refused to vocalize aloud. Able to translate, it helped explain why they were so successful in their venture.

When moments of rest came she updated her notes, noting the decrepit state that the Lunar surface was in. Once quite full of life things had instead died off, old husks of the occasional tree or an abandoned, decaying building was often their scenery. The ground itself was hard packed; the last rain or snowfall had been years ago if the geology displayed said anything. A few stubborn bits of grass clung on, but most were lifeless where it could be found.

The Moon would need a miracle and quite a number of Terramancers to promote growth again. Even then she had her personal doubts; there simply were no  _ people _ that they passed by. No wayward orphan or struggling family to look up from a broken fence in a barely worked field. While Ruin Terranmancers could restore the land to livable, they couldn’t produce people.

It would have been worthwhile to question one of the remaining men of the Lunar army, to see if they could lend any insight as to when things went bad so quickly, and for that matter, where the people were at. The Imperator however left them with the forces that would await any sort of retaliation, stating that men who were defending their home fought better than those who were out conquering. It made sense to her, having seen first hand how effective Mercury’s own forces were against the Darkness.

She took down her notes and kept such misgivings to herself. Instead, she offered translations and verified that the scanner was accurate upon the destruction of the first Pool. The rest of the time she tried to press for more details of who taught the Imperator how to fight.

The Darkness could be destroyed with sword and axe, or in Mercury’s case, high powered shots of energy harnessed from created batteries. In the Imperator’s case, it was daggers and throwing devices, incapacitating anything that came in her path. She had studied the Darkness as much as possible, following along behind the army after they slaughtered. They weren’t just shadows, but rather a fleshy sort of creature that could bleed a noxious green liquid. As long as one was quick to wipe down their blade, it wouldn’t corrode. What made them dangerous was their ability to take on a fluid form, merging with one another to create a towering beast or dispersing towards something more humanoid in size and shape, and then everything in between.

The other danger was exposure to their touch meant certain doom for the victim, as they in turn would become Darkness. She hadn’t seen the process, just read of how the body would lose all structural integrity as their skeletal system dissolved away. The body would blacken as though scorched by flames, emanating from the point of contact. Eventually; the written accounts varied from source to source on just how long it would take, a new Darkness would emerge.

Part of her, she would admit, wanted to see it first hand.

The Martian Army carried a great amount of water with them, upon inquiry she discovered that they were no stranger to fighting Darkness even if they were more prone to fighting civilizations instead. If touched by Darkness, there was a chance that pouring water at the point of contact could prevent the infection from occurring. Otherwise, amputation if an option but it was a last resort. The Martians had put down their own before rather than let them be converted, and each soldier was prepared to quickly and almost without mercy.

Save that it was a mercy that they offered.

The Imperator killed without discrimination, one movement flowed without interruption to the next. A one woman army, she cut a path without any consideration of her own safety. Save that there was considerable danger, given she was as ordinary as the army. 

Bearers of their planetary crystals were easy to pick out, as they always held a hue to them, like wisps of energy or smoke dancing on the wind. The Premier, for instance, was surrounded by a blood red color that angrily flared much like the woman did herself. The Queen of the Moon, who held a crystal reliant upon the planets within the system, had a bare white glow. Likely due to the state of the Darkness on each planet as well as those who held their respective crystals.

She knew who the Imperator was; the Queen had all but confirmed it and while the woman herself remained silent on it for the need of her own privacy, it still lead her to wonder. Was someone searching for her wayward crystal, or was the Queen going to be permanently hampered in power since it was missing? For that matter, how long was the Premier going to follow someone who beat her only by ways of tricks and powerful items from Saturn?

It was a concern she had until she watched her fight.

The army moved ever onward until scouts returned, all but rushing back. Nudging her horse forward she had borrowed from the army allowed her to arrive in time to hear what was going on. There was a small civilization up ahead, right where the scanner indicated a Pool. There were  _ people  _ milling about, acting perhaps odd to the eyes and reasoning of the scouts, but in ways that were hard to explain as to why they  _ were  _ strange. It could have simply been a Martian thing, but the scanner didn’t lie about such importance.

Dismounting she followed on foot as the Imperator and the scouts moved back to their location of discovery. Just over the ridge they could make people out, a small settlement that at a glance, looked normal. It was with another look, a closer one, that she could pick out the oddness the Martians had claimed. The buildings were dilapidated, shutters hung from a single hinge instead of both. Paint had long since peeled to the point any splash of color was like a beacon. The people themselves stumbled about like mindless automatons, single minded but with not quite defined purpose.

They watched for a few minutes before the Imperator finally pulled back, prompting the scouts and herself to do the same. She looked down at the scanner then back up again towards the  _ inhabitants,  _ likely thinking before she spoke. “I’ve never heard of anything like this before, have you?”

Directed by the question she thought on it, finally shaking her head. “Darkness kills all humans or creatures it comes into contact with. No one has ever suggested that they’d … it’d … it would create  _ something.” _

“Like Thralls.” The Imperator mused for a moment. “Then again perhaps they are not. It could be simply close proximity to the Darkness that they are acting odd. I could believe that, save that this scanner hasn’t lied yet.” She glanced back in the direction of the scattered structures. “People don’t willingly live like that for long, it begs the question why didn’t they simply move closer to the Palace; we’re not that far from it, a few days to a week away.” The scanner was offered back to her to take. “I’ll take a few Banners with me and go investigate. Tell the rest to be ready to move in after us after five minutes; they might simply be confused but…” With a shake of her head she gestured with her hand towards the awaiting army.

Left to relay that information, by the time she got back the army was long on the move. With little choice, or perhaps she just wanted to see, she hurried after the Imperator who was currently  _ attempting  _ a conversation with a man. Perhaps in his thirties, she would almost mistake him for being a drunkard for how he swayed and wobbled around just standing still. The men she had taken with her remained more than on guard; their swords were already drawn and spears at the ready. It reminded her of rabid dogs, just waiting to be let from their leash. The townspeople, if they could be called such truthfully, didn’t even notice them.

There was a reason why she came with limited forces, she would be less likely to scare off the populace. A look was given back to the scanner that still beeped at the impending doom that they were standing on. This wasn’t right, it didn’t seem right.

It was wrong on countless levels, but what did they have to go by other than a scanner that all but screamed this was the place. Were they to go door to door, risking separation of forces if not worse, like some urban assault? The Martians were skilled; the entire System knew that and  _ felt  _ it in one shape or another. Would they have the patience to root out the innocent from the guilty, or would they simply put it all to torch and chalk it up to casualties of war?

The answer was made for them as a building none too far away, perhaps a hundred feet at a glance, burst apart in a shower of wood. A hand; was it a hand for how  _ colossal  _ in size it was? emerging to grasp what was once the roof, some three stories up. Another appeared, tipped with claws, grasping the same. The tips of wings appeared after, capped in stark contrast to the black of its body before a toothy maw uncurled itself from creation.

The  _ man  _ that the Imperator had been attempting conversation with hissed and screeched, lurching forward in ways that beguiled its human form. Nearly quicker than she could follow the Imperator caught the offending fist headed her direction, already stanced to the side. Her elbow sharply connected with his leering face, not stopping him and she knew it. From somewhere she withdrew one of the countless throwing spikes she used, releasing his hand and extending her arm to bury it in his neck.

Fortunately the Darkness had veins and anatomy, otherwise it wouldn’t have done anything.

“Spears! Focus on that thing!” The Imperator yelled out in between another inhabitant rushing at her. This wasn’t a step to the side to handle; the woman met him head on, actually  _ stepping  _ somehow on a leg that was used for running. Her other foot lodged on his shoulder as she climbed over him, a twist for her boot heel to dig into his neck and server arteries there. The Imperator looked back at her, “Help them with that thing! I got the rest!”

The spears she had called for were currently whistling through the air, nearly all of them landing on the creature that roared but few truly found purpose thanks to the seemingly armor that covered it. It reminded her of a dragon, or perhaps a demon, the Darkness stepping from the remains of the building with hardly a care that, as the building collapsed, it took out its  _ comrades _ who milled about seemingly somehow still oblivious to the situation.

None of this made any logical sense to her.

Losing track of where the Imperator was, the resulting fire that came from seemingly nowhere filled the air with smoke. Switching to her visor allowed her to easily pick out the Martian army; the rest arriving to join in on hurling what spears they carried before resulting to melee combat. More creatures of Darkness formed and to that, her mind was made up. Holding her hand out in front of her she drew on her Crystal, a spear of ice forming wobbly before it shot forward to impale the dragon looking creature in, what she guessed, was the shoulder area. 

It roared like nothing she had heard before, but the sound was almost drowned out by the sound of cheering from the Martian army. Apparently she had their approval to continue on; as they harassed it with sword and axe she kept creating the ice missiles, wishing she had brought a rifle or something with her but this would work just as well.

Despite her attempts, the Darkness was strong. A wayward swipe of an arm took out three soldiers; the unfurling of a wing took out two more. Behind it she was dismayed to see a tail; she couldn’t look when it struck. More than one soldier was  _ swallowed  _ whole down that gaping maw. There had to be a weak spot or  _ something  _ that they could use, or despite their efforts this  _ thing  _ might actually get them. For all the cuts and slices, lodged spears of metal and ice, it wasn’t slowing down.

Her gaze rapidly moved behind her visor, identifying at last what had to be a weak spot. Behind its head and horns the armor did not seem as thick. A quick gesture sent a rod of ice to impact and remain there. “There! Aim there, behind it’s head!”

She looked away for a moment, catching sight of the Imperator taking out another Thrall only to be intercepted by one with horns and a sword. A call drew her attention away before she could note more; “We can’t see in this smoke!” One of the commanders yelled, but still pressed on through the haze.

The smoke… it took a degree of focusing in the chaos, spreading her hands wide as a blanketing mist covered the area. While it didn’t do much for extinguishing the flames, it did seem to dampen the smoke in the air, promoting visibility. Able to see the Martians went on a rampage, cutting at the creature while more hacked their way up its back. Where their comrades were shaken or yanked off, more took their place until one, at last, drove a sword deep behind its head, burying the sword to the hilt before jumping off. Thrashing, the Darkness let out a screech before falling, at last, to the ground below.

The cheer was deafening.

A flash of movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye, causing her to turn. As the Premier lunged forward the Imperator caught her arm against her body, meeting the oncoming dagger with one of her own. Much stronger however, the Martian woman simply yanked her sword arm back, dropping her head to catch the dagger going for her neck to scrape against her helmet instead. On the next swing forward the Premier was flipped to the side but was quick to get back to her feet as the Imperator couldn’t follow through with any sort of attack. Both sword and dagger came at her again; the Imperator opted to dive between them and bodily knock the Premier off her feet and to her back, rolling to slip to the side before the dagger could claim her shoulder in a stab. On her feet the woman deflected the sword slash as the Premier rose again, lunging forward herself with a dagger of her own before she abruptly stopped.

A sword at her own neck while her dagger tip pressed against the mail that covered the Premier’s own. They ground themselves to a standstill; whatever words they could be saying was impossible for her to make out. Dimly she was aware of the Martian army stopping in their carnage; or maybe really they were done, to bear witness.

Something happened though, both slowly stepping back from the other and finally lowering their weapons. It took her a moment more to realize that the Premier was  _ laughing  _ at the entire exchange, sheathing sword and dagger to address the army instead who cheered their victory over a hard fought foe despite losing more than a few banners to it.

It was her chance to rush forward to where the Imperator stood, a few lines of crimson showing against her soft tan clothing. The woman met her eyes before nodding her head to the side, indicating she should follow after. They walked from the city, mostly out of sight before the Imperator unceremoniously sat on the ground. “You did good killing that thing, whatever it was.”

“Why were you and the Premier fighting like that? It makes no sense, the Queen said-”

“Queen isn’t here and the Premier’s an opportunist. She saw the fighting; what better way really. We came to an understanding … maybe … so maybe it won’t happen again.” The woman took in deep breaths; it finally dawned on her as she knelt, offering her canteen only for it to be waved off. “We’re scouting. Got that Scholar? We’re  _ scouting.” _

_ We’re out here so I can catch my breath and recover from that, _ it went unsaid. _ So that I don’t show weakness in front of  _ her  _ and her army. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heartfelt thanks to DominaRegina for simply being wonderful.


	8. The Flayed Confessional

Part of her wanted to scream her frustrations, but that wouldn’t really help in the long run. The Premier knew  _ how  _ to push her buttons even if it was entirely and apparently, rather unconsciously. She knew that  _ she  _ had no idea just who she really was. Someone of importance to the Queen certainly, someone she had rather begrudgingly agreed to follow but truly only on her terms. That was the whole point of the impromptu spar; an opportunist saw fighting, saw an opponent, and even as the smoke cleared enough it wasn’t reason to just  _ stop  _ right then and there.

This was just the Moon. It was only going to get  _ worse  _ before it could get better.

She left the Scholar to investigate what she could of the sparse buildings and those who had once inhabited them. Anyone in the Martian army who followed sciences she directed to go with her, while the rest of the Army were tasked with setting up camp. They would be on the move again come midday tomorrow, back to the Palace and the next phase of her rather  _ grand plans. _

There were dead to account for, a tally of how many were left, the matter of the Premier’s blatant insubordination, and her own injuries that were positively aching at this point for attention. She wanted a bath, a long, hot, steaming bath. So incredibly steamy so she couldn’t  _ see  _ a thing, and warm. Warm and hot so she could almost remember what it was like to be home amid soaring temperatures, high humidity, and those breezes that made it all bearable.

There never was a bath hot enough, and she was still forced to  _ see  _ everything she didn’t want to.

Then, there was still the matter of her plans, and perhaps, just maybe, taking out two birds with one stone.

She found the Premier talking with her Aide, still in that damn helmet. He saw her first and gave a respectable enough of salute; maybe the Martian was frowning at him for doing so. That snarling visage had a way of making things way too hard and right now, she just didn’t care.

“You have the means of contacting the Ruin Terramancers of Jupiter. I want to speak to her. Now.” It was better than allowing the Premier a chance to get a word in, and the Queen had supplied that Mars and Jupiter kept in contact with one another, even if she didn’t know exactly how.

If it stunned the woman… it wasn’t like it was easy to tell.

The minutes however stretched on without a word or gesture. This was a test as much as anything could be, willing herself to remain calm, to not give in, to not take a dagger and bury it deeply in that covered face over and over again. Finally, the Premier’s hand rose, completely offhandedly in the gesture. “Rooks. Show the  _ Imperator  _ to the GhostHexers, that she might speak to who she  _ wishes.” _

She was being dismissed, feeling anger rise within her as much as the hatred and fear did. Seething she bit her tongue, knowing she had the opportunity to address insubordination and more now, since there was no way the Premier was going to allow her to talk to a close ally without being present.

“This way, Imperator.” Her Aide spoke, blue eyes as sharp as the mohawk his hair was cut into. The old Martian blood ran through his veins, a wonder he hadn’t been put to death as Mars liked to do systematic purges of natives every so often as the King was apparently worried about usurpers. He knew who his patron was though, and held respect at least for the title if not herself. It’d be enough, for now.

The tent she was shown allowed for no light to infiltrate it’s construction, thick cloth the color of blood illuminated by low burning braziers. Two people; their gender really indistinguishable thanks to the numerous  _ bones  _ they used to decorate themselves and their clothing with, immediately rose at their arrival.

They were armed. One held a bone that looked freshly plucked from someone’s body; their femur if the length gave any indication, devoid of muscle and tendon but splattered with blood. The other with a mace that, at first glance, could be either rusty beyond belief or equally blood soaked. Perhaps this was meant to intimidate her, and truthfully she did have to wonder just what fetish and ritual she walked in on.

“The Imperator wishes to speak to the Geomancer.” The Premier’s Aide spoke up, apparently accustomed to whatever the hell these people were and what they were doing. “Be quick of it, and speak to no one what transpires, as per the Premier.”

Was the last added for her comfort? She had no idea but both of the people bowed low in a clatter of bones, moving to sit across from one another. Their arms raised and slowly she could see the growing stronger outline of an astral telecommunications portal. At her side the Aide bowed and left the tent, the heavy material casting darkness once more.

The fuck was she getting into.

Simply enough, an outline of a woman appeared, hued in blues and whites. Dimly she recalled hearing about astral projection, but at least now she could say she had actually seen in. The image solidified; still the same colors, but it still looked  _ real  _ anyway.

Makoto, the lead Ruin Terramancer if rumors were to be accepted as proclamations of truth, looked momentarily surprised that it was  _ not  _ the Premier on the other side. It danced across her features before the woman took on a more wary look, likely wondering.

This would be perfect if she could play it off right.

“I am the Imperator of the Lunar forces, in command of the Martian War Machine. You’re the head Terramancer, are you not?” She spoke easily enough, standing when she would have rather sat on her ass to rest. Her statement brought an unexpected, but welcomed response from the woman.

“Imperator huh? And leading around Martians? I’m intrigued. Yeah, I’m the Geomancer, ya can call me Makoto. So, what’s the reason for your call?”

“I’m in need of your services, you and about a hundred Terramancers.”

“Hundred?” Makoto made a show of drawing in a breath like this was a surprise before she laughed it off. “I can do a hundred. And me too huh, whatcha got going on there Imperator? Need some stuff destroyed?”

“No, I need some things saved and left better than they are now. What does the War Machine provide you for your services?”

A cast of light filled the tent for a moment as she asked, aware of another presence beyond the two GhostHexers and herself. 

Makoto seemingly was aware too, a smirk pulling roguishly at her face, then again she could see where it would be too obvious for her to look behind her shoulder. “Normally they provide us with treasure from those they conquer.”

“That won’t be an option.” That just confirmed that for her; the Queen had suspected but could never fully confirm it. Those of Earth that were still alive never really spoke of what happened  _ after  _ the Terramancers had left; maybe they thought it was just one long series of waves from the War Machine killing them, then the Jovians ruining what was left.

“Mm. Figured you’d say that.” She paused, making a show of thinking before speaking anew, “I’ll take a night with you, how’s that? Save that it’d probably be the Premier’s sloppy seconds and I can’t say I want that.”

She felt a smirk pull at her lips, going so far to actually allow it despite how hidden it was behind cloth. “The Premier hasn’t even had the first fuck, Geomancer, so that could still be on the table for discussion.”

Was it her, or did the temperature inside the tent just soar?

A laugh, a bit boisterous but so very meant came from the Jovian. When she finally caught her breath; a good minute later, she was still chuckling. “I like you Imperator. Me and a hundred of my best’ll be wherever you need us.”

“The Palace on Earth’s moon in a week.” From there she could divide them out where they would be the most effective. The Moon needed considerable help, and the bulk of the forces would be on Earth for quite some time. Ami had provided blueprints and schematics for how to build the scanners, but resources would be required for their production. There was also the matter of having skilled tradesmen left alive; hopefully there was at this point. Otherwise, plans would need to be modified considerably. One thing at a time.

“Week. Alright, that’s doable. I’ll see you then.”

The imagery of the woman faded off, leaving the tent filled with the low light of before. Seconds, she had just that to steel herself before  _ that  _ voice spoke out. Low, enticing,  _ seductive.  _ “You have an  _ interesting  _ choice of words.”

That voice sounded different and she knew why right away, even as she turned. Standing next to her though a step or two away, the Premier waited minus her helmet. She knew that conversations without the Premier being present were not going to be frequent or very long. The low light did  _ nothing  _ to hide her features, the hair as black as sin, the pale yet arrogant features.

Those  _ eyes. _

She swallowed hard, even as she felt her heart beat painfully in her breast. The twinges of  _ excitement,  _ of her body’s  _ desires  _ were not helping. It didn’t  _ matter  _ what had happened  _ last time.  _ Her mind rebelled, her heart cried out, and she knew looking into those  _ eyes  _ would be her undoing.

There wasn’t a damn thing she could say, her tongue felt like a weighted bar in her mouth. Maybe that was why the other woman looked at her with those eyes that spelled doom, maybe that was why she invaded the space that existed between them with a step.

She wanted to curse her, to damn her name and being to the furthest depths of whatever hell existed. She wanted to do that and yet, like before, she wanted to become enthralled by her, enchanted and taken wonder. The marks, the scars, the fire and flames, and the pain…

Oh it was worth it, she wanted to lie to herself about it. It  _ would  _ be worth it  _ this  _ time. It wouldn’t be like  _ last  _ time.

“If you desire a place in my bed, it is something I can certainly  _ arrange.” _

She  _ hated  _ her. Not a single emotion reflected in her gaze, those  _ eyes  _ were uninterested, dismissive. Bored. This meant  _ nothing  _ to her, a far cry from the last time. Before those eyes had been  _ passionate,  _ even if it was only due to a blood craze.

“What do you say, Imperator…” Her hand rose, reaching for her body, cupping her breast and capturing the wild beat of her heart. “Your body certainly says more than words can convey.” The other went to her waist, daring just above the belt that she had tucked things behind. A swallow was all she could manage in response, her body opting for freezing instead of fleeing, much less fighting.

She couldn’t do this again.

Her own hand rose, closing covered fingers around the offending wrist. It was simple enough to push back her hand, ignoring the pang of loss associated, the  _ heat  _ the other brought and offered. “You care only for pretty things,  _ Premier.”  _ She stepped away, putting distance between them to finally stop at the tent flap. “I haven’t been a pretty thing in years.” Daring to look back she fixed her with, what was hopefully a baleful and meaningful enough look. “Show another display of insubordination again and I’ll decimate you until all that remains is a mewling, pitiful mess.” She stepped out, letting the tent fall closed behind her.

She had to get out of here. She needed air, a chance to  _ breathe,  _ and fuck she needed to do something about her body. All but storming off, her destination was her tent that she had commandeered from some Martian, or maybe they gave it up willingly. It was hers though, a small sanctuary amidst the turmoil surrounding her. While it wasn’t  _ completely  _ private, it offered enough that she wasn’t going to complain over it. Pushing aside the tent flap she stepped into silence.

Finally.

Dropping to sit in a chair she closed her eyes, enjoying the silence for what it was, the chance to relax, to finally catch her breath. Her hands pushed aside the cowl wrapped around her head that left her eyes exposed, raking through short, messily cut blonde hair, coming away with sweat. It never seemed to matter how hard Haruka had trained her, fighting tended to wear her out, especially when it was for her life. Rubbing her face she unconsciously skirted around her mouth where the skin had healed in harsh ridges and the missing teeth.

A snort. Pretty things didn’t exist any more. There was only this, fighting the Darkness, trying to purge it before it completely claimed everything. A damp cloth went to her face next, feeling moderately refreshed. She’d have an hour at most before she would need to endure the other parts of command, of meeting with the leaders, that damnable Premier, discussing their losses, what had and had not worked out, before they would leave the next day to regroup at the Palace; hopefully they had not sacked anything in her absence.

Her eyes closed for a moment. Maybe this would actually work out.


	9. Drowned in Fleeting Joy

She felt like she had just fallen asleep at the stack of papers holding numbers meant to represent just how much of anything was left when Luna gently awoke her. Barely, and rather blankly, her mind struggled through the haze of unrestful sleep to process what the woman had to say. At least she was kind enough to repeat it four or five times before it finally clicked into place. Minako had returned and was requesting a meeting among them. Just herself, the Premier, and the Scholar to join her.

That was curious, her mind sleepily adhered to as she rose with a thin groan, clutching her back for a moment. Aware of Luna’s almost hovering concern, she assured her that she was alright and to tell the others she would be there shortly. A few minutes were going to be needed just to wake up and appear presentable.

It wasn’t like she could find much rest these days; scant half hours if that here and there. Sometimes sleep crept up on her and would ambush at the most inopportune times. Rubbing her eyes, she noted Luna had returned with a basin, small pitcher of warm water, and a soft cloth. Thankful for them, a warmed cloth went to her eyes, breathing out in relief.

“The … Imperator. She seems rather pensive and irritable, at least from the last time.”

“You have to remember Luna, she is a young woman.” Dragging the cloth down her face she washed her hands next. Paperwork wasn’t dirty in the least, but she felt more alive afterwards. “We’ve asked the impossible of her, not to mention the company she must endure.”

“I think it’s more than that, Your Grace. They were-”

“No, no they were not.” She was hasty to correct the woman from Mau. “In the far past perhaps, but not their recent, collective pasts. One holds to memories and almost sanctified traditions far more than the other.”

Luna gave it some thought before lightly shrugging her shoulders. She disagreed, but it was her right to; she didn’t know the full facts and wasn’t a native of the System. Even if she was, unless she knew the regional lore… it was not worth finishing the thought.

“Would you like me to accompany you to this meeting?”

“No… if she was able to get the Premier without her ensemble and lackeys, I don’t want to undermine her success. I’m not saying you are of course, it’s just…”

The woman softly laughed, waving it off. “The Premier needs her ego stroked routinely, I understand.”

When she arrived to what was once a grand enough conference room, she found the table covered by maps and markers, the Scholar’s computer set up at one end and busily being typed on. The Premier stood boredly off to the side, lacking her helmet for once but not her sword. In the middle stood Minako; a reminder to refer to her as Imperator, pacing back and forth but stopping at her entrance.

The Scholar and her offered a bow, the Premier merely rolled her eyes.

“I was anticipating a meeting in the morning. This must be urgent then?” She asked, taking a seat from Minako’s waved hand.

“I have a hundred Terramancers and their leader due to arrive tomorrow. A meeting like this isn’t feasible to schedule anytime soon.”

She noted that the Premier bristled a bit at the mention of those from Jupiter, concerning certainly as she was under the impression they were allies. Her gaze went between Imperator and Premier, both seemingly goading the other but neither taking the bait. Something apparently happened in the time they had split up, left, and rejoined.

“Understandable then.” Supplying that to break the tension, “What do you have to show me?”

“My research is still rather preliminary, but the Darkness has evolved beyond what anyone considered possible. We are used to seeing their shapeshifting abilities; it seems now they are capable of corruption and creating Thralls.” Efficiently and without preamble Ami spoke, her fingers steepled before her as she stopped typing. “We came across a large Pool of Darkness near the pole, yet it was inhabited by people. Unresponsive to communication or our presence, they didn’t react to the Martians with us. Only when a mass had Pooled in a building to attack did the villagers reacted in aggression.”

“My concern is that the Darkness is adapting to us.” Minako put simply. “The Thralls proximity to the Palace was concerning as well.” Her finger pointed to the location; she already knew it was a week away by casual travel. “The Moon though is purged of all traces; the Scholar confirmed that.”

She looked at the map, feeling a frown that she couldn’t contain. “When… no. I had the Army sweep the Moon for survivors. I don’t know how they could be missed, especially being so close.”

“How many Lunarians are there?” Directly and bluntly the question was asked, and while she would have preferred not to answer it with the Premier present, sometimes there was no choice in the matter. 

“What you see of the Army here, and perhaps two score more. A small amount on the Earth remains, offering what aid they can. We gathered everyone we could reach years ago. Some had left of their own choosing and I cannot blame them for it. Perhaps they were the ones you encountered.”

The silence was almost deafening. The Premier offered nothing behind that bland gaze of dispassionate attention, not even a shift from where she leaned against the wall. The Scholar stared at her screen, obviously trying to puzzle something out, and the Imperator… she wished she had more of an opportunity to talk at length with her. So much had transpired since what happened to her on Mars, and a mere six hour talk would not suffice.

“The Geomancer and one hundred of her best have agreed to help out. I am going to leave a handful here and bring the rest with me to Earth.” It went without saying that food, once at almost surplus amounts due to their low numbers, was going to become an issue. Even with the land restored it was too late in the season to begin growing crops now. 

“I didn’t sign up or agree to a charity case with my men.” Was it her, or did the Premier seem tired? Echoes of it reflected in her voice, and her gaze; originally mistaken for something apathetic, was in fact just … tired. None of the snappish attitude she had displayed upon her arrival seemed present. While a lot could happen in the time it took for them to handle affairs here, it seemed too far fetched to believe it was an epiphany of sorts.

She left without preamble, much less a dismissal.

“I’m anticipating that the Geomancer joining have some schemes to allow us faster travel. I don’t want to spend years at a time on each planet.” Minako continued on like the Premier was still there, or perhaps, not still there. “There’s still a matter of their payment that is being waived for my wit, but I wouldn’t put it past them all the same. I doubt their alliance is as strong as it’s being projected.”

“It will also be interesting to see how the Darkness manifests on Earth. Mercury had great, craggy, mountainous looking creatures, whereas the ones we saw here looked to be closer to Dragons. It was not something anticipated, yet all of my reports came from what my home saw and scattered sightings from Earth.” Leave it to Ami to find that, despite how catastrophic it was, it was worth studying. “I have pictures as well; we found that a common melee weapon, while effective, put too many Mercurians in danger. Plus, to be honest, it looked and felt silly to attack Golems that towered over you and Delvers that would burrow into the ground with a mere axe.”

“A … Delver?” She felt like she had to ask, even if perhaps, she knew she shouldn’t. Not at this hour, not with what was impending.

“I’ve a picture of one, here.” A few keystrokes later and Ami turned the screen to face her. Some _creature_ stared back at her, teardrop shaped and covered in what she assumed was some sort of liquid, not to mention rocks and debris. “This one in particular was around fifteen by ten feet, and weighed just over six thousand pounds. It positively decimated a relay tower that provided communication between a few of our cities; we found it while it was eating.”

“It … was eating? The tower?” Something like that… while there were few metal structures still standing on the Moon and Earth, if it consumed a tower, then it certainly would wreak havoc on what armaments they possessed.

“Indeed, it burrowed up from the ground. If we would have seen one of these here, I don’t think even the Martians could have handled it unless they were lucky, or the Premier was with them.” The computer was turned back around once more, only for the whole thing to be closed shut. “It was Dragons here; Dragons and various subspecies of them. Thankfully none flew and none breathed fire.”

Her gaze went to Minako who remained silent during the explanation, perhaps tuning it out entirely. Her heart ached, and she wanted to offer the woman comfort. A thick protective wall had been erected and further reinforced with her _recovery,_ but she feared that despite Michiru’s intentions, Love could very well die out and become a jaded, twisted thing.

Perhaps aware of it, the other looked up, meeting her gaze for a moment before gathering up the map that held her attention. “They’ll be here at noon. If you can identify the most crucial points that need the most attention before then, I can have them get started. I want to be headed to Earth shortly after.”

“You’re … not staying longer?”

There was a shake of her head, the map folded up and slipped between the folds of her garment. “No.” No other explanation was provided, all she did was merely walk out much like the Premier had.

Rather taken aback, perhaps amazed, all she found she could do was blink after her. Aghast, she looked back at Ami, whose fingertips now rubbed at her forehead. Opening her mouth to ask, she was promptly cut off.

“She’s been like that ever since she contacted the Terramancers. Something was exchanged between the Premier and her.” With an exhale she rose, gathering her computer. “I’m afraid I need to get some rest myself, if she’s going to drive this hard of a schedule. At least the Army is mostly refreshed, but there’s no telling what is going to be awaiting us on Earth.”

She said no more, merely inclining her head before leaving her to maps and requested information.

It would be a long night.

* * *

If any of them were still in possession of timekeeping devices, then the Jovians were right on time. The SigilRippers that opened the portal looked wild, dressed in furs and a general, unkempt appearance. If it was face paint or mud, it wasn’t easy to distinguish, most looked barefoot as the Ruin Terramancers stepped out. There really was not a distinction between them, perhaps one dressed more in furs than another, or a heavy cudgel instead of a staff of sorts.

The War Machine hardly looked impressed. Her own surviving forces stared at them with more curiosity than anything, peering at them like one might a subdued beast. She hoped it would not be seen as ill-will, but it was hard to tell just what they might take offense to. At least it was understandable with the Martians and what to expect; this was completely out of her knowledge and those around her.

Makoto herself, the Geomancer, was the last to step forth, a glinting axe held in one hand. Heavily reinforced boots gave way to what she could guess was buckskin pants and tunic, a snarling wolf pelt resting atop her head and belted around her body. The axe looked new; too new, freshly forged if she had to guess.

At once the Geomancer pinned her look on the Imperator, completely ignoring the Premier who, it was hard to say her opinion given her helmet, and Scholar who was busy inconspicuously taking notes on the new arrivals.

“I thought someone who commanded the great and mighty War Machine of Mars would be taller.” She was astute; the Premier had two or three inches on Minako, not accounting for the obvious differences in armor and lack thereof.

Minako merely gave a shrug, “Think you’re tall enough for all of us.” A tilt of her head as she paused, her gaze inspecting. “Probably the most talented of us as well.”

She heard Luna barely keep the snicker contained, and while the glare she shot was meant to admonish her for the lack of decorum presented, it held no bite. Minako had hung around Haruka for a decade after all. It was to be expected that she picked up at least _some_ of her mannerisms.

Makoto thankfully took it all in stride, a great laugh that seemed to ease the tension that had built up without anyone’s real awareness. “Ha! That’s a good one, talented. Well, introduce me to who ya need to and lets get going.”

A hand was offered in her direction first. “Queen Serenity of the Moon. Lady Luna is her attendant to her right.”

A nod and she was happy to return it. For the most part, the relations between the Moon and Jupiter were cool and tolerable. No Jovian had ever stepped foot on this surface before, and communication with them was always on their planet and their terms.

“You already know the Premier of Mars and her commanders.” Drawing attention to the fact it was known they had an alliance, while also not excluding her from introductions. It was a skillful way to say that, insufferable as she was and would be, she _was_ important.

“This is the Scholar Ensign of Mercury.” Minako finished, hand returning to her side.

Daresay, she caught a rising blush creeping up Makoto’s face as she outright stared at Ami, and even the otherwise analytical Mercurian looked to be at a loss for words, if not breath.

A few minutes of awkward silence was finally broken with a cough, the Geomancer looking at the ground before bursting forward with all the grace of a rampaging bull. “Ah uhm that is … you are?”

“My name is inconsequential. Imperator will be fine.”

“Ah, one of them secretive types huh?”

A slight shrug, “Something like that. The Queen has identified locations here that are in the most dire need for your Terramancers’ skills. Not to destroy, but to renew and recreate. I’d like to have a few remain here to start work on these areas, and the rest to leave with us to Earth.”

“To the point…” That great axe was hoisted up to rest against her shoulder, the Geomancer looking back at those assembled. “Alright, ya all heard the Imperator. Five of you stay here and do what the Queen wants done.” She turned back to Minako, “Earth, huh? When do we leave?”

“Now.”


	10. Sin and Punishment

She hadn’t seen anything look as bad as this. Which honestly said a lot, given how many times she followed after the War Machine. What made it worse is that she had been to Earth before, so it wasn’t like this was the first time she ever stepped foot here. A few different areas, a few different regions; none were in comparison to  _ this. _

She almost had second thoughts about this whole business; even ignoring that they were essentially working for free, oftentimes she could justify the things her people and her did. Survival of the fittest, the choice of nature, wrong place at the wrong time… excuses maybe, but she didn’t live with regret.

There was simply too much to do and going on that stopping to think about it was simply not going to happen.

Earth, as she knew it, had a variety of climates and geographical features. It produced a wide assortment of things that the War Machine liked, and years ago, gems and works of art that she could trade with Saturn with for necessities.

That was the real reason behind everything. Jupiter wouldn’t support aspects like farming or hunting anymore, not with the uptick of storms in the last twenty years. Its moons were of no help, most barren in some aspects, be it by uncontrollable storms or inhospitable land. They were left to trade with Saturn for necessities, as it wasn’t like Mars had much going for them outside of killing and plundering. It was easier to enter into agreements to decimate other people’s land in exchange for fine baubles that could gain them what they needed.

After all, it wouldn’t take much for the War Machine to turn on them when it was all said and done with their grand campaign. While they were skilled and possessed abilities the Martians did not, sheer numbers and fighting experience would be their downfall. Better to serve their would-be conquerors and hope for the best when the day came, than it was to openly defy them.

Like Earth. Save… this was beyond what any Jovian had done.

Decrepit squalor intermingled with far more than just lack of care. Rotting pits of refuse colored what would have otherwise been a pleasant breeze in the air, the Sun brightly shining with early Spring heat gave it an extra kick. More than one Martian coughed, and she knew that a few others came from her own people. Tepid looking pools of water gathered swarms of insects to hover above them, ready to latch to some poor unfortunate living thing. She was pretty sure that one shallow body of water held more than a few dead animals.

What wasn’t refuse or decay was blackened instead, the evidence of past fires left numerous skeletal structures. None had been knocked down, much less salvaged for anything of worth. It was like no one cared, so no one bothered. The land around was equally as bad, maybe worse, or maybe the distance just made it easier to ignore. What trees were present were bare of any growth; uncommon and unheard of during this time of year on Earth. Even with all of her knowledge, she had no idea of what  _ kind  _ of tree it was supposed to be in the first place. 

And the people…

To be honest, she was glad she wasn’t the one in charge here.

The portal had opened just outside of what apparently was supposed to be a town. A sign hung from a single loop, groaning loudly above the remains of what may have been a nice gate, once upon a time. A few dirty faces; mostly kids, peered out from behind something that might have been a fence at some point. They ran off on bare feet and rags; she saw more than one completely not care of just  _ what  _ they ran through.

A man looking to be in his late sixties came out from behind a lean-to, warily looking at them, especially the neatly lined up soldiers. More bones than anything else, patches of hair clung to his scalp like burrs, wispy and white. She caught sight of a few other people with dirty faces peering from out of the other lean-tos, but it wasn’t easy to say if they were male or female.

“We are here on behalf of the Lunar Queen.” The Imperator started off with, seemingly unbothered by the conditions around her, or maybe she just hid it well.

The man seemed taken aback by this, going so far to take a step back before spitting to the side. With a reveal of teeth that were yellow if present, his hands rapidly moved with his words, shooing them away. “Git! Git! Ain’t nothin’ here fer you butchers!”

“Sir, the Martians are not here to harm you. We are seeking-”

“Ain’t nothin’ here! You bastards killt it all! Git ‘fore we kill you!”

“Sir-”

“Queen ain’t with those bastards, you lying Martian! You’re here to take what we got an’ we got nothing fer ye!”

The frustration was evident, both from the man and the Imperator who was just trying to offer aid. She had a feeling that this wasn’t going to end well for anyone, shifting a bit on her feet.

One of the villagers who had been watching from behind an old board picked up a rock and sent it in their direction, apparently to try and encourage them to move along. It landed well short of striking anyone, but was enough to incite a mob. More and more villagers appeared; close to a hundred if she had to guess, holding rocks and bottles filled with things she didn’t want to imagine. They looked as bad as their leader if not worse in their own ways, most being barely dressed kids or folks well past their prime.

Of course. The War Machine put down anyone able-bodied, man or woman, they came across that may rise against them.

The Imperator raised her hands, showing she wasn’t armed; come to think of it she didn’t recall seeing the hooded and cowled woman even carrying weapons. “Sir, we are here in peace-”

She probably had more to say but it was cut off as a ray of multicolored light was sent her way. Like the others quickly moving to get out of the way she heard the army draw swords, her own Terramancers joining in hefting cudgel and staff. When she looked back up after the flash of light she saw the Imperator slowly lowering a rod held in her hand.

The man that had been talking to them looked completely dumb founded that it  _ hadn’t  _ worked and that they, in return,  _ hadn’t  _ attacked.

“Right. We’ll be on our way.” The rod was tucked behind her belt, to the small of her back. She did not turn her back on them but walked backwards instead until she had rejoined where the rest of them were some distance away.

“We’re right on top of a Pool.” The Mercurian Scholar spoke, holding some tablet sized device in her hand. A solid circle of red filled the screen, with even more blinking with urgency along the borders. Whatever it was meant to signify, it looked bad.

Whether the Imperator had anything to say about she didn’t, looking to the armies. “Head east for ten miles and set camp there. Geomancer, do your people hunt?”

Caught off guard by the question as she was admittedly staring at the Mercurian she nodded quickly. “Yeah, we hunt.”

“Good. I would like some of your Terramancers to go with the War Machine and find us game to eat. I’ll send commanders with you who will be able to spot the Pools before we step into them. I’d like the rest to help prepare some natural defenses for us.”

That was something she could do, nodding her agreement. With their commands, the army formed back up to their perfection of gathering, moving over the barren earth in rhythmic tones.

“I want you to have a meeting with myself, the Premier, and the Scholar. We are here to purge Earth of Darkness, and no one wants to be here for years. We need supplies so the Scholar can produce more of these.” Her hand pointed at the softly beeping computer. “Think you can help us with that?”

“You’re trying to save these people? And here? There ain’t nothing here worth savin’ Imperator, sorry to burst your righteous bubble.”

“These people are being controlled by the Darkness; they appear to be more … sentient Thralls than what we encountered on the Moon.” The Scholar stated, barely looking up from the beeping device. “If it’s possible, they might still be freed. The land can be restored.”

“Freed? Thralls? Ya mean they’re being mind controlled or something?”

“Yes, save these ones are far higher functioning than the others. Imperator, we might not be able to save them.”

The woman said nothing, rather too looking at the Premier who had been amazingly silent in the entire exchange. Maybe she was aware of the look but she doubted that it registered much less bothered her. Rei had that annoying habit of looking like nothing was rattling around in her skull, completely at peace, while other times she raged as badly as a storm did back home, all fire and fury.

“We had nothing to do with this, if that is the reason for your stare.” At the further silent prompting looking the Premier seemed to humor her, or maybe her guard was down, by sharing more. “There’s nothing of value here. This was flat land before and flat land it will remain. This is not the work of a Ruin Terramancer, as your dear Geomancer will attest.”

What the fuck… was Rei  _ jealous?  _ Of something that hadn’t happened and likely wasn’t? She was joking with the Imperator about sleeping with her; really it was meant to gauge her reaction as it was curiosity more than anything driving her. She hadn’t met or heard of anyone, outside of the King, who commanded not only the War Machine but the Premier as well. Naturally she wanted to know how the woman did it.

She watched as the Imperator rolled her eyes, letting a sigh escape. “Un-fucking-believable. Now I have to deal with your brooding ass simply because I’m not interested in being a notch on your bedpost. Sorry you three, but I’m not sexually attracted to any of you, so if you’re that hard up, might I suggest you introduce yourselves to each other and go do what women do to get it out of your system.”

It would have been worth about anything to see the reaction on Rei’s face but she couldn’t have it all. The Scholar with wide eyes and a hint of color quickly looked between them all before immediately burying herself with the scanner that hadn’t changed.

Unphased; perhaps it was good she hadn’t given anything up, the Premier was prompt to counter, “You honestly believe you’d be worth a notch.” It wasn’t a question; it wasn’t like Rei knew how to ask one in the first place.

For that matter, it’d be grand to see more of the Imperator than just blue eyes. “Oh Premier,” she began, her voice oozing such a lilting tone that she had to take a swallow herself just to keep her mind from wandering. “I’m better than anyone you’ve had on display for your debasement pleasures." She didn't even need to snort but one could have been perfect as her voice came back to the normal tone she was used to. "You haven’t been here, fine. Neither has any Terramancer, fantastic. We have Darkness all around us however, so let's all collectively untwist our panties and work out a strategy.”

Yeah, she was right. She liked the Imperator a lot.


	11. He Screams for Mercy

She knew she was being watched and it did nothing to stop her. From one end of the tent’s bordering confines to the other she strode, her pace languid and dare say, lazy. Slow, unchecked, unhurried. This was for no one’s benefit save her own, even as the minutes continued to tick by.

Finally she stopped, dropping down to sit in her chair with a bare shift to accommodate her sword. His attention remained sharp on her, patiently awaiting whatever it was she had to say despite likely having countless things that needed seeing to. Thanks to  _ her. _

“I want you to find out who she is. Where she hails from, who trained her, her name, anything and everything down to the very nature of her panties.”

He didn’t blink an eye at her, and he even went so far as to wait a handful of seconds before he released an exhale of breath that signaled what he thought about it. That his lips twisted to the side before straightening to speak… she knew all these tells well and anticipated at least  _ some  _ of them at her commands. “She’s an effective commander, but war isn’t her calling, nor is fighting.”

“And.” The word hung in the air, almost a question save she never asked those.

“She’s providing good information and intelligence to the Crown.” 

He was smart, but both already knew that. “Which tells me nothing of her. She fights unarmed save for throwing spikes and daggers. No one reports of her sleeping, much less eating, and the rod; a surprise certainly, is Saturn made and costly.”

“A wealthy benefactor. The Lunar Queen perhaps.” A wave of her hand dismissively said all it needed to in regards to that. The moon of Earth had  _ nothing  _ of value on it to begin with. “Then someone else. For the resting and eating aspects, neither you nor the Scholar do such. The Geomancer will not either.”

“She’s not like us, however. She would not be able to hide such a thing.”

“A magic item perhaps, pointing again to a wealthy benefactor that is not the Lunar Queen, but yet is still someone she knows well. I did not recognize the other side of the portal, neither did any of our SigilRippers.”

A rapid, concise knock at the post outside of her tent told her it was a messenger and stopped her conversation. “Enter.” Her gaze remained fixed on her aide while the man reported after a bow.

“The Imperator requests your presence, Premier.” The messenger waited, an awkward silence following before she finally waved a hand to dismiss him. Likely glad to go, he was quick to leave the tent, casting it once more to comfortable silence.

Minutes passed that she spent staring up at the sky covered by heavy material, refusing to budge from her seat. “You would call this insubordination Rei.”

“She’s just so …  _ damnably  _ … irritating.” Things slid between them at times, but she knew Rooks since she was a small girl. It was by her intervention that he was not put to the sword at the First Purge, shortly after her mother passed and her father went from being that to the King instead. Paranoid and reckless, natives were killed in such droves that the rivers ran red with their blood for months. The King called it feeding their great home, that Mars craved the blood of cowards, that only the strong would survive. The Spark to Ignite the War Machine… that’s how he wanted it to be remembered. “No one refuses me and she  _ did.” _

“I think you like her.”

“What the hell is there to like. Just blue fucking eyes. She could be hideous or disfigured under all that cloth.”

“Are you really that superficial? You’re already infatuated with her and all you’ve had to go off of is her eyes.”

“She already said she wasn’t attracted to me so this whole discussion is moot.” Save that while her voice may lie, her body did not. Absently she closed her hand, recalling the feel of covered flesh and the rapid beating of her heart.  _ That  _ didn’t lie. Snorting, she pushed up to her feet, settling her sword back into place. “Just find out who she is.”

“As you wish.” With a bow and salute Rooks left the tent, allowing her additional time that, if the roles were reversed, she would find to be dwelling in insubordination. Her head hurt, rubbing at her temple as she contemplated just how long she could wait before  _ having  _ to go back out. For a brief moment on Earth’s moon, she felt a clarity she hadn’t experienced since she was a young, small girl. Like a shroud being lifted and a haze cleared; she felt, daresay, like  _ herself.  _ Or as much of herself as she could without thoughts of spilling blood and gathering skulls. Then that  _ damn  _ Imperator wanted to go to Earth, right then and  _ there,  _ and here they were.

Some backwater planet away from anything of worth or value. Permeated instead by death, the sickening stench of decay and refuse, and her damnable blue eyes. Eyes that  _ knew  _ her, delighting in her ignorance of just who she was. Eyes that  _ looked  _ right through her, effectively brushing off her initial advances. Just not quite, not completely. Likely if she was to await in her tent… but that was stupid. She  _ never  _ waited for anyone like some eager, wet fool did for her. Ready to please and be used, all to gain favor she never gave in the first place.

She nearly lobbed her helmet across the tent, pulling it on with a grunt instead. If she must suffer, at least her gaze could wander without awareness while fools blathered on about saving creatures that did not deserve to be spared. 

It was a mistake to send Phobos and Deimos away, but they were a planet away now and the likelihood of going there seemed slim. Did the Darkness exist on her home? Likely, but the Imperator would be a fool to set foot on that red soil. Just like she was a fool for following at her heels like a trained dog.

Fuck.

The meeting had better not last forever.

Outside the army was hard at work constructing their tents while others assisted the Terramancers into formulating defensive measures. Great mounds of earth sprung up from the very ground they walked on, towering to twice her height. Reinforced by rock and tree, she caught sight of deep moats on the other side of the naturally made barrier. Apparently  _ she  _ was expecting an attack.

There wasn’t a reason to snort over the notion; she would have done the same.

Further along she watched as a great fire pit was completed, her men hungry for something beyond the rations they had brought with them from Mars. Those particularly skilled in butchery were already hard at work processing what had been located. Of course, Terramancers had that ability to  _ cheat,  _ able to read through the land where game gathered. It made them skilled hunters, but anyone would be if given a literal sign pointing to food.

Stopping outside the tent that awaited her presence, she tried to ignore the sensations bombarding her senses. Whispers of bloodshed and malice resounded in her ears, echoing in the depths of her helmet. Violence always sounded like that, a keening whisper that was soft at first before turning to a loud screech, like metal against itself. She had tried meditation before; both Phobos and Deimos had  _ encouraged  _ it, but her mind never could cease its thoughts enough for it to be effective. The only thing that seemed to help was archery, but in reality it just channeled the want for rampaging depravity to single minded killing.

She did not like this place.

Focusing instead on the voices within the tent she remained outside, still not ready to step within. They were muffled, the clarity lost amid material. She wanted to pinch the bridge of her nose to offer some form of relief before giving up, moving the heavy fabric aside to step within. The voices came clearer then, not yet ready to cross that final threshold.

“- the town is here, and the SigilRippers left us here. We’re halfway around the world from people that would have been possibly expecting us. I’m not here to cross oceans and deserts. There’s no way they’ll go for that.”

The Imperator’s voice was easy to pick out. She was rather right as well; the War Machine would not march across such features and terrain.

“Earth’s gotta lot of thin’s like that though. Is it really necessary to talk to them way over there?”

“Apparently they’re the only civilized place left here. Any production capabilities would be in their hands. We can’t function on just five of these.”

“Ya might not hav’ ta, come to think about it.”

“What do you mean? Do your people have a means of finding where the Darkness is?” The Scholar, of course.

“Well maybe. I ‘unno though. How does your scanner thing work?”

“It sends out a signal that has been specially tuned to the Darkness’ presence, no matter the shape it takes. It’s relayed back to the scanner to appear on screen basically.”

“Kinda like sonar or that thing bats use, echo whatever… I mean, we ain’t never done it ‘fore but the land does tell us where game is at. Could always ask the ground here for yer Darkness Pools.”

She heard a snort. “Remarkable. You kill the land but still ask it things and it responds.”

“Yeah well, never said we was perfect.”

“Would this ability work elsewhere? On your planet for example?”

“Yeah don’t see why not. Might be hard though on Jupiter; planet ain’t been happy for past twenty years or so. We never thought to ask.”

There was silence. She almost considered leaving or actually stepping inside when the Imperator spoke again.

“Do you think you can …  _ push  _ the Darkness to one spot?”

“Whada mean?”

“She means can you direct them to a predetermined location to destroy. A killing field.” Her mind made up, she finished walking inside. A large table had been set up, spilling over with a map and markers. The Imperator was leaning over it, almost directing the conversation while the other two stood to either side. At her entrance they all looked to her; surprise on the face of the Scholar while the Geomancer looked thoughtful.

“The Premier has the right of it. If your Terramancers are that attuned, I would imagine it would be easy enough for them to locate the Darkness and prod it along to a single focal point. It’ll be far more dangerous, but far less resource intensive to handle them all at once than numerous battles.”

“Huh. Well yeah, I think we can do that. Used ta herd stuff along back home, should be the same concept.”

“Good. Work with the Scholar to find a place that will be disposable for destruction. A deep canyon is likely ideal, something we can surround them in. If there’s nothing within distance, let me know.”

“Ya know, if we can’t find somethin’ we can just make it. Won’t be a problem. If ya want a canyon, we’ll give you one.”

Silence hung for a moment, which was a prime opportunity to take a new seat. This was interesting, this side of such an infuriating woman.

“I would say just bury them all, save that it doesn’t work. If there is nothing suitable, then alright, create something that is. Just don’t alert them to our presence; this place is infested enough.”

“Ya got it. So uhm yeah, shall we?” With as much suave as a boulder could have, she rolled her eyes at Makoto trying to smooze over the Mercurian. It was  _ disturbing  _ to see it apparently work, if the Scholar rising and gathering her computer to leave with her was any indication.

Her headache was back in spades.

Around the table the Imperator walked, stopping to lean back against it. Fixing her with a look she crossed her arms, her flimsy decorum falling away. “You were requested over a half hour ago.”

“I was occupied.” She allowed the statement, for it brought a delightful reaction to those blue eyes. A flare up of jealousy, quickly snuffed out to feigned indifference. Glad for her decision to wear her helmet she gave the smile that would otherwise never see the light of day.

“Right, occupied. I believe we already had a discussion about insubordination Premier.”

Tugging off her gloves by pulling on each finger, she watched as her actions were worth rapt attention. She  _ had  _ her, completely. It was easy enough to rise from her seat, creature comforts ignored. The attentive gaze turned wary, the subtle shift of the woman straightening. “I offered you a place in my bed,  _ Imperator.  _ How is it my fault you refused.”

When the other gave no response to her query she closed the distance between them, bare hand cupping the other’s face. The quick intake of air was like the sweetest song ever sung, brushing her thumb against covered lips. “That offer can be given anew if-”

There it was, a point of something sharp against her neck. Despite being covered and protected, the numerous throwing spikes the woman kept would easily get through. She refused to swallow, daring the woman despite how her helmet hid the challenge. “If don’t want to lose your fingers you’ll-”

“That’s how it always is with you. You allow a supposed trespass against your body then you speak up with threats.” Out of spite or perhaps her desire, her hand lingered before falling away as though intentional. “I could easily do what I want to you and then what, you’ll utter something about how dare I when it’s  _ you  _ who  _ wanted  _ it all along.”

Her words hit a nerve if the indication of hatred flaring up within blue eyes was to be believed. It was interesting that, to see how hatred and fear could mix so fluidly until it was hard to pick either apart. “I am your Imperator-”

“You are a trembling woman who is soaking her panties over thoughts of what I can bring you.” A better nerve, and the shift gave it away. She pressed on, for what was restraint anyway to her? “I can smell your desire from-”

The loud, keening wail of a horn interrupted her words. Accompanied by shouts she scowled, she  _ knew  _ what it was but it didn’t mean she had to  _ like  _ the timing. Distracted, she was left open to the solidly planted foot that shoved her back until she landed in the chair she previously occupied, barely retaining in keeping it upright. The encampment was under attack, and all she could think about was imaging the way that damn infuriating, irritating woman would look naked. Abruptly the chair fell backwards, landing on the ground and knocking the air from her. Either that, or it was the booted foot pressing against her sternum. From the depths of her helmet she looked up, meeting the cool gaze of the Imperator who stood over her.

“The only thing you’ll ever be to me, Premier, is a  _ butcher _ .” Her voice was equally as cool as her eyes. She leaned forward, putting more weight on her leg, pressing further against her armor. It was becoming difficult to breathe. “Remember this well.”

Like that she stepped off her and out of the tent, her voice rising in shouts before the material muffled it. The wail of the horns continued, the shouts from her own men growing in response.

For just a moment, her mind felt a small moment of peace, the whispers of malevolence ceasing. Her eyes closed, basking in the sensation of what was, before she returned to her feet. A  _ butcher  _ didn’t care about such things, and the horns were wearing down her remaining nerves. Tugging on her gloves she stepped out of the tent.

Into a catastrophe.

The surrounding trees were lit aflame, their dry husks burning quickly. Limbs had fallen on a few tents, setting them equally on fire. A few soldiers laid dead on the ground from a fallen branch in an attempt to escape their tent only to be struck from above. Others were trying to put out the immediate danger before it could spread, more were running with arms bared towards a breech in one of the erected walls.

A skeletal hand grasped the barrier by the fallen one, hardly concerned about the deep moat or lined, sharp sticks within. It towered  _ over  _ it regardless, a humanoid face distorted as a skull. What flesh she could see covering it looked to be pulled tightly across its body, stopping in her tracks as a tail peeked over its shoulder like that of a scorpion. One of her men found out the hard way as he was stung; a scream of agony as he fell to the ground, body convulsing and turning a sickly shade of green in his death throes.

More were appearing, counting at least a dozen more climbing over the walls they hadn’t knocked down. A rally was made towards defense, Terramancers reshaping the rocky outcroppings in efforts to trap the creatures’ limbs and tails. It allowed moments for spear and sword to hack, cudgel and axe bludgeoning anything it could.

The  _ things,  _ these  _ manifestations  _ of Darkness varied in height but all looked the same. They carried with them the stench of decay, as though their surroundings did not smell enough. More than one soldier retched while attempting to fight, only to be off guard and easily dispatched, proving that they possessed multiple ways of killing. Enmass a few banners banded together in formation to attack one, only for the  _ thing  _ to construct a wall of glittering ice, dividing up the attack and killing three caught by the sudden creation. Their bodies lent a red hue to the crystalline construction and for a moment, it sated the whispers in her mind.

“Get these fucking walls down! There, trap them there in that pit!” In one hand the Imperator had claimed a fallen spear belonging to the dead, using it to point out a small tactical advantage. Pausing a moment, she drew another of her precious throwing spikes, pitching it with pinpoint accuracy at a leering skull. The creature shrieked, hands clawing at its face. Defenses lowered, her men attacked, driving spear points repeatedly into its skeletal body. Terramancers flung dirt aside like it was nothing, great pits created that held three of the creatures while working to draw in more.

Drawing her sword she strode forward, only for something to soundly smack against her armor from the back. A wet sound that did not belong among the confusing din of fighting. It was something akin to a grunt, muttering out a curse, “The fuck was that.” Turning about she was not afforded the chance to duck as something struck her helmet face on. Shaking her head she was greeted with a  _ boot  _ on the ground.

A boot that was connected to a leg, cut off at the knee.

A sudden turn and she saw a  _ hand,  _ still holding to a sword.

And then the scream. Or maybe it was all at the same time. Time seemed to slow for a moment, providing clarity that normally never came about.

Her gaze sharply rose as three chains eviscerated Rooks as though his body and armor was mere paper. The chains took his other arm and leg at the same precise points, letting his body fall to the bloodied ground.

A … a  _ thing.  _ She couldn’t describe it, other than it towered over her and seemed to be constructed of nothing  _ but  _ chains. From its head to what she guessed was legs, it was a mass of forged links connected to one another. Various ones ended in spikes; some reminding her of polearm points while others were for catching and hooking onto things.

Red eyes gleamed from the depths of those bright, steel gray metallic links as another creature appeared behind it, then another, still more, until her vision was filled with nothing  _ but  _ them.

And the screams.

Her hand tightened on her sword for a moment before throwing her right hand forward, a ball of flame instantly forming at her beck and call. Launching itself forward, the fireball struck the creature fully in the center of its mass. Driving it back a step another gout of fire followed suit, until it was just a  _ continuous  _ stream of flames. Within she could  _ see  _ the chains melting away, fusing together in some ugly display of lumps. When she finally let the fire go all that remained was a blackened mass of misshapen metal.

The soldiers were already trying to engage but she ignored them, turning to Rooks who thrashed around rather effectively, given the state of his body. The signs of contact were too obvious, frothing orange liquid sputtered from his mouth and at each limb. His eyes found hers, helmet be damned.

_ “....Mer… cy…” _

No Martian ever asked for mercy, the concept so incredibly foreign to them. Mercy was for the weak, what those they subjugated constantly pled for. To hear such a word was an affront to her heritage. Widened eyes watched her _friend,_ or at least the closest thing that could be considered such to her, _beg_ of her for it to end. Reversing her sword, she stabbed cleanly through his torso and heart, stopping once she felt the resistance of the ground below. A dead gaze stared back at her, eyes that were bloodshot finding no peace in the increasingly cloudy sky above.

The rattling sound of chains drew her attention back to reality, time resuming its ever onward march. Raising her sword, it would be far too late for stopping the seeking chains speeding towards her, watching instead as a thin, multicolored light shot past her shoulder. Striking the being of chains it stopped, seeming to turn a dull, brownish color, before the wind carried it away as dust. Snapping her head back around she caught sight of the Imperator tucking the rod back behind her belt, her other hand waving the spear around to point. 

“A boon to whoever kills this fucking thing!” She shouted, encouraging the soldiers around her to rally anew to the skeletal threat they were facing. Men around her cheered, renewed to the fight. 

Glowering her attention turned back to those made of chains, her own forces split to block the chains while others attempted their attacks on it. Left and right of her it made little difference, most left equally as eviscerated as Rooks had been. Picking up a fallen spear, she hurled it with all her might, only for it to be knocked away. The chains snapped as though back at attention, racing towards her.

A blast of frigid air stopped her in her tracks, the face of the Scholar fierce with intent as she slowed the creature’s attacks. A loud war cry had her gaze moving up; catching as the Geomancer lept from a tree, that axe of hers swinging down to hew the creature in two.

Landing, she raised the axe again, “We kin kill the fuckers!” Her Terramancers, the ones not desperately fighting the skeletal creatures or constructing defenses around them, stormed in, barrages of stones flying before their assault, following the same concept that the War Machine had attempted but with far better success rates. As each chained creature became overwhelmed the soldiers were able to get in closer without as much fear of death or being torn to shreds, killing indiscriminately and with vengeance for comrades lost.

She turned, catching one of the skeletal monsters crush half a dozen men under a wall of ice and make its way further into the encampment. With her sword raised the blast of fire from her right hand distracted and harmed it, side stepping around to lop off that vicious tail before it could react and strike her. Two nearby soldiers that had been frantically trying to extinguish the fires joined in with her towards killing it, exhaustion clouding their faces and evidence of their retching decorating their armor.

There was no time for rest, another following through the opening in their defenses. With sword and fire she poured her anger and frustration into her attacks, not even registering how she didn’t feel satisfied when all that remained was scattered ashes on the torn earth.

Behind her she could hear the bellowing woops and joyful cries of the Geomancer as her and her axe tore through chains like they were nothing. Chunks of the material littered the ground like a lumberjack gone mad, the woman not much better for the enthusiasm displayed. It cheered the soldiers on, lending them the ability to continue fighting even despite their losses.

Little time though was had for reflection. No sooner was one creature brought down two more were ready to take its place. The Terramancers worked to keep them contained and easier to kill, but even they weren’t invincible. More than a few were sent to their deaths by tail or chain, the worst of them were left alive to scream for mercy and release from their painful mortal coil.

Something bumped against her. Snarling, she turned with her sword ready only to see the Geomancer’s grimy, dirty face. Splatterings of blood decorated her like war paint, her axe hardly so gleaming now but was free of nicks that  _ should  _ be there from striking chains. “C’mon. They got a big ‘ne.”

The fighting was almost over she discovered; it felt like it lasted forever yet likely was but minutes. A few soldiers were walking among the injured and dying, killing those who were infected and waving over assistance for those merely caught in a bad situation in time. Bound and retained by strong hands of earth, one last skeletal creature remained. Snapping and snarling, its stench was enough to keep most at bay. The rest were on constant lookout for ice; pillars of it complete with bodies skewered upon said they could not be too wary. 

Without a nod of acknowledgement she strode towards it, stopping by the Imperator who looked equally as worse for wear. Garments were dirty and ripped in places, scorch marks decorated, courtesy of fallen tree branches aflame. She was breathing hard, leaning against a different spear than the last time she bothered looking at her. About to voice how incredibly stupid it was to keep such a thing alive the Imperator spoke up, interrupting her from actually vocalizing what she thought. “It speaks. It’s been talking the entire time.”

Oh. She supposed that changed everything then.

The creature thrashed about again, stopping once it saw her. The hissing escalated, the others covering their ears and painfully backing further away from the source. It sounded akin to the whispers she was already used to in her head but it didn’t stop her from tightening the grip she had around her sword.

_ “...DaUgHtEr Of BlOoD.... yOu FlAiL aGaInSt Us So… HeAr Me AnD oBeY… hEaR mE aNd ObEy…”  _ Each syllable and sound was roughly articulated, jarring and screeching.  _ “... Do YoU nOt ReMeMbEr ThE pAcT… jOiN uS oR dIe … jOiN uS oR dIe…”  _ It hissed, tugging rather ineffectively at the restraints of earth holding it back.

The headache that courted her for far too long was positively pounding, her eardrums like heavy war gongs that blood crashed against with each beat of her heart. With a snarling display of teeth she hurled her sword straight at it, ceasing the raking noises of its speech with the rather swift death it didn’t deserve. Slowly the rest raised their heads, no longer under the swaying screech, a few vomiting from the imbalance brought on by the assault to their ears. She didn’t care, turning away from it all as her gaze went to rest on the fallen body of Rooks.

Ignoring all the activity around her, she had to wonder what was it all even worth. She had lost scores of men, legions if not cohorts at this point and for what. Some mad woman’s desire to be stupidly fucking righteous in the face of whatever the fuck this was supposed to be. Creatures of Darkness. Darkness manifested. Darkness that could speak shit that she  _ felt  _ like she should  _ know. _

Soldiers and Terramancers alike were busy doing  _ something  _ and she didn’t  _ care _ , her gaze rising slowly to find the Imperator’s back. She paused in her decision to leave this absurd cause, her forehead drawing together in abject puzzlement and her thoughts fled at once. With far more curiosity than she meant to ever allow to show in her words, she spoke. “Imperator.”

The woman turned, looking at her with tired eyes and a sagging body propped up only by a spear. Whatever reserves she had were long since gone, relying on pride to continue onward.

“I have new terms to the condition that the War Machine follows you.” She didn’t care that it stopped the Scholar and Geomancer from what they were doing to stare at her instead, nor did she care how that damnable woman just tilted her head slightly to the side. “To the end then and the War Machine’s unwavering loyalty, we shall put an end to this Darkness infestation. Upon reaching it, you shall answer all the questions I have for you.”

She’d never offer such a thing, her promise to obey, preferring her brand of insubordination towards someone who got  _ lucky. _ Perhaps she had lost too much, but she knew the real reason why she ultimately just pledged until this stupid crusade was at an end.

“Deal.” The woman kept it at that, turning, or was it more like slumping, to amble away, the Scholar giving her a thoughtful look and the Geomancer just smirking before they both followed the Imperator. The word came without pause, just a bare one that said she gave it no real consideration and instead, uttered the reply with no forethought or care to be had.

It afforded her another long, staring look. Two tusks and a bloody spear between them, piercing through a crown. A branding tattoo exposed on her right shoulder where her garments had been torn and torched. It looked fresh yet old at the same time; the skin around it pale from lack of sun and element exposure.

_ Why was the Imperator marked property of the Martian Crown?  _ She’d have her answer, even if it meant saving cattle that did not deserve to be spared from the War Machine’s iron grip and conquest.


	12. Tunnel of the Heartless

She felt so incredibly tired that sleep, a long tormenting adversary, was starting to sound welcoming to her plight. There simply wasn’t a chance for rest, at least not yet, and she refused to sleep beyond the scant two hours she absolutely had to have. If she could get away with even less she would, for two hours was plenty of time for her mind to relive the past and jolt her back to the present.

It certainly did not help being around the cause of her grief on a constant basis.

Leaning against the spear that did a grand job of keeping her upright she hid the yawn behind her hand, waiting bearily for one of the Cohort commanders to report on the location of the breach. She had a suspicion to be sure, but something like this was best left to confirmed facts and not mere whimsical guesses.

The Geomancer lingered at times, coming back to report on the state of defenses. She was glad for that, even if she was tuning most of it out. Her mind found it better to imagine a hot springs, shrouded in steam. She’d be willing to do anything, fuck, even tell the Premier  _ who  _ she was if it meant she could lounge in one for a few hours.

Sometimes it amazed her that she’d give up so much for so little in return.

“Was it really  _ wise  _ to make that deal with the Premier?” 

Oh right, the Scholar. Her mind drifted unwillingly from hot water and naked flesh she didn’t have to look at to the present. The Mercurian stood by, looking a bit ragged for wear. For once she wasn’t typing away at her computer, perhaps lost to the carnage surrounding them.

“She’s gonna find out anyway. There’s not much of a point in hiding it.” 

Small, comforting lies she could tell herself. Her mind wasn’t over matter by any stretch of the imagination, still quite susceptible to just her mere  _ presence.  _ And fighting on top of it… fuck. She wanted to change her clothing at the very least.

Haruka seriously would have been a better choice, at least she didn’t get winded at the end of a run, or a spar, or anything else.

It probably wouldn’t have gotten this bad either, if she was here.

One of the Martian SigilRippers finally approached; it appeared all but the Premier’s now deceased aide had horrible concepts of timely reporting. She straightened up and drew on pose she simply didn’t  _ feel  _ or  _ believe  _ in at the moment. “I would like a portal opened to Mars. Your fallen comrades should not rest on such a deplorable planet.”

It surprised the Scholar, and brought a blink to an otherwise stony, unimpressionable face. He offered a bow before walking much quicker away, almost a run really, to where others waited, sharing the news perhaps.

“A portal to Mars? What if they leave?”

“They won’t. They won’t ask for it, of course, but it will conciliate some of their rage. Plus, by offering it before anyone grumbles about it, shows I’m not some heartless leader throwing their lives away like immaterial things.”

“They found the breach. Came from over there.” The Geomancer returned with the news, in the place of the Cohort commander she was expecting. A peering lean to look in that direction before sighing, returning to steady, wavering feet.

One thing at a time.

“I can have a portal opened to Jupiter your fallen… I confess I don’t know your peoples’ customs in regards to final resting places.”

It earned her a well meant, though tired, smile from the Jovian. For her thoughtfulness perhaps, she really didn’t want to spend the effort right now by delving into it. “Won’t be necessary. We cremate and scatter our ashes to wherever the winds take us. At best, we hope that we foster new growth.”

“Forgive my bluntness but your people are a walking contradiction in action.”

A laugh, “None taken. Gotta adapt to things we never thought to do to survive.”

Fair enough. One thing down, one more to go. She looked over at the Mercurian, noticing her sudden silence and interest in the Geomancer. A smirk came at once;  _ really?  _ before she broke up the moment. “Where was the village at in relation to the breach?”

On unexpected, but appreciated she supposed, cue the Premier appeared. Minus her helmet. Today must be the day to be completely unfair to her and she didn’t like how it was working.

“My men report that you are opening portals to Mars.” Coolly stated, her arms crossed before her as she was soon stared down. Public spaces or not the woman  _ had  _ to know what her presence  _ did.  _ Goddess help her save … well, She didn’t before so the likelihood of it now was close to nil.

She couldn’t afford this, forcing herself to meet  _ those  _ eyes and retain the command she otherwise fought and clawed for. “The War Machine would not find Earth acceptable for its honored dead.” That sounded appropriate to an insatiable ego.

A soft snort was her reward. “Indeed we would not.”

Decorum be damned, she was  _ tired.  _ “Then there you go.” She was about to say more when the Scholar nodded, changing her direction at once. “Set up guard duty, no one for more than an hour. Everyone needs rest, plus no one really had a chance to eat anything. I want a few banners or whatever on horseback plus you two ready to go in an hour.”

“This is for.” Would it kill the Premier to ask an actual question? She was willing to bet it would.

“I have a suspicion that the attack was directed at us purposely. I, for one, would be interested in knowing for certain.” There, that got her attention and for a moment she let herself feel good about things.

She was regarded for a few breaths of air before the reluctant nod came. The Premier  _ liked  _ the concept; she probably even  _ approved  _ of it, but wouldn’t admit it to anyone of course. With that new oath of hers in place it was going to be paramount that she adhere to it else find herself lacking answers to whatever burning questions she had. 

Those questions were probably along the lines of why wouldn’t she sleep with her and what color were her panties. She had an active imagination too, coupled with a flippant mind.

“An hour.” She didn’t wait for a dismissal and she honestly didn’t care, watching as the Jovian wandered off again to look at something related to the defenses perhaps.

Being tired made it far easier to be apathetic to numerous things.

“You might want to stay here.” After a while, she broke the silence, watching as the soldiers gathered bodies to be sent back to their homeland. A window to the Martian surface was available for her viewing, forcing herself to actually  _ look  _ at it rather than turn away. While she swore she wouldn’t ever again, that was before all of this happened.

Still the same red haze, a fierce beauty with subtle deception. A temperate day, though cold to her, and a positively freezing night. Mars was harsh, deadily, seductive, and cunning. Apt words to describe the Premier herself, frowning at the thought but sighing all the same.

That was always an issue when you were among the devout. Once your faith failed and betrayed you, it was impossible not to remember how it felt to be so cut over and over again. Reliving it especially when so much was a trigger to remind her.

Fire and brands and that cruel smirk. The way she fought and lined her wrists with deep crescent scars in attempts to avoid it. Her eyes closed, shuddering in memory.

“Why’s th- are you alright?” A hand went to her arm, feeling soft fingertips against her flesh. There was a pause, and a softer statement, “I know this mark.”

Shit. Fuck. Thal’s fucking balls. 

Rolling her shoulder she pulled haphazardly at her clothing, trying to cover what was obviously exposed. Fucksticks. Well that probably explained the Premier’s new terms. Which meant she had no fucking idea  _ still  _ if she let it go  _ that  _ easily.

That  _ bothered  _ her. After all she had done and-

And this wasn’t the time or place.

“Yeah well, you’re smart and figured it out. Stay here, it’s gonna be a bloodbath there. I don’t think you need first hand proof of butchery at work.”

“They could be innocent…”

“I doubt it really, even if they ran into the Martians before and want revenge. I’m going with them, with a scanner, to confirm it. If they aren’t behind it then I won’t authorize it. If they are however, I can’t risk the War Machine becoming demoralized after what happened here. They lost a lot of people, the Terramancers too, and I don’t need this to stall out on Earth when there’s still more to do.”

The Scholar frowned at her, judgement clearly levied and deserving. She got it, she understood. It wasn’t right or just, but those terms had no meaning to her anymore. This was all an obligation, a necessity and promise that she’d fulfill. After that she didn’t care and had no intention of lingering about to see how it all worked out.

“You’re not a heartless person Imperator.”

So briefly she smiled, a pointless gesture given her shrouding. “Maybe. Heartless and apathetic have the same linguistic history where I’m from. It could just be one word instead of the other.”

“That isn’t what I meant. You don’t have to operate on her level.”

“That’s debatable. In the meantime, if you can get an idea of what’s out here that would be nice. Send scouts if you need to but try to keep it to small parties and away from danger. The Queen knew of one town, but said there may be small, isolated regions that are managing somehow, someway. We are going to run low on supplies eventually and if there’s some opportunity to trade I want to know of it.”

The Scholar relented with a sigh of her own and a nod. “I’ll see if I can find anything. The maps from Mercury are somewhat sparse, but better than what the Martians had by far.”

“Thanks. Make sure you rest up too, and thanks for helping out in the attack. Oh, and one more thing. That  _ thing  _ said something. Find out what it was blathering on about if you would. It seemed to know the Premier and I’d love to know why.”

Leaving it at that she dragged the spear behind her as she made her way to her tent, stepping into relative peace. She’d need to give it back to someone; random thoughts as she pulled off her bracers and gloves to slip her hands into a basin of cool water. Thoughts returned for killing in the name of a hot bath. The practicality and feasibility of such said it wouldn’t happen, but how it was nice to dream.

Instead she dried her hands, pulling off her clothing quickly. Some she might be able to salvage, but at least she still had spares and changes. A soft cloth soaked in water and a bar of pressed soap pleasing to her senses was the best she could do for a bath in these conditions outside of a bucket to scrub her hair. There was a reason she cut it short; though it was growing again and danced at her shoulders, Haruka forced her to live outside for weeks at a time to get used to things like this.

It was a culture shock to someone who was used to attendants who handled everything.

Staring at her feet she washed as she could, donning thick socks which felt like an affront still after all these years, far more used to sandals and who the fuck would wear socks with such things? Up her legs that remained unblemished, far more toned but lacking the sun’s radiance and mark to her skin. Panties followed; a soft orange at that, before she pulled on the muted tan pants. Baggy to a point, the material came from either Neptune or Uranus; she forgot which one it was, helped keep her warm without weighing her down. They promoted flexibility which was the basis of how Haruka taught her to fight.

Tucking her sock clad feet into her boots, she finished washing the rest of her body. That part she was always quick about doing, refusing to pay much attention outside of the fact she  _ did  _ clean and there wasn’t some new injury that she had gained that she needed to treat. The slice to her side for instance, on the Moon, that was healing and that was good. She didn’t have to wear a bandage anymore, and while the skin was still tender it wasn’t  _ burned _ like other parts of her skin were.

Drawing on the rest of her clothing; something supportive for her breasts as it certainly wouldn’t do to have them getting in her way or causing her grief, a thicker shirt followed. Tucked into her pants, a heavier shirt the same material as her pants followed, pulled around her and held closed with hidden ties. Her shoulder ached and reminded her that it didn’t really like what she had done in the fight, but for right now it would allow her to properly brush her hair out. If things went according to plan; a doubtful scenario, the Premier and Geomancer would be gone for some time, which meant peace and quiet for her.

Releasing a sigh her cowl was the last thing to pull on, sitting down to tie her boots. Arming herself anew she left the tent to see the requested Martians forming up in their pretty ranks. Spotting no sign of the other two allowed her the chance to review the state of the camp without commentary. The defenses raised by the Terramancers were nearly repaired and completed, the War Machine’s dead no longer present while pyres were being built for the Jovians who had fallen. At quick glance she didn’t notice anyone who had opted to remain on Mars, but she’d need to confirm that with whoever was left that was high enough ranking.

Thoughts for another time as someone brought her a horse, standing attentively by as she pulled herself up into the saddle with a concealed groan. Requesting one of the few scanners she used the time to settle and get comfortable. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to riding, but it was mostly side-saddle and over a decade ago. Neither Haruka or Michiru had horses so getting thrown back into the saddle was a pain in her ass and another ache she didn’t even want in the first place.

A complete contrast to the Premier with her languid riding, making the whole thing look easier than it already was. She wanted to scoff as she rode up, back with her helmet on but probably giving her an eyeful. That was confirmed as the other spoke, “You changed your clothing.”

She was far too tired to play games right now, regressing to a roll of her eyes as opposed to giving a verbal answer. Michiru would have looked aghast at her, or at least as aghast as the woman would actually allow herself to look, at her utter lack of control and decorum in the situation. A foul mood was approaching and she almost welcomed it, shifting the conversation instead away from the fact she changed to the gathering men.

Maybe it was sensed that she didn’t plan on saying anything as the Premier continued like nothing happened. “What are your plans if the village was involved.”

Right. The woman was smart. “Then you do what you do best, butcher. Check for anything of value and a controlled fire once you’re done. It’s a diseased cesspool fermenting something vile at this point. I don’t want it to spread.”

That stupid snarling visage of her helmet blocked any reaction she could have used. “If they were not involved then.”

If they weren’t… it wouldn’t be right to slaughter them just for throwing a rock at them and a disintegration spell at her. She didn’t think they were completely innocent, but they  _ were  _ Darkness touched. There was nothing safe about keeping them alive, and there wasn’t a cure anyway. Maybe if the Queen’s Crystal was at full power, but that relied on everyone  _ else  _ cooperating and her own wayward one found. A wave of lethargy washed over her again, fully aware that she showed it to the one person she really couldn’t afford to.

“If they aren’t…” she began, watching as the soldiers formed up and the Geomancer on her way. “They’re still Touched and a threat.”

“For calling me a butcher you certainly do not shy from it. I am rather surprised,  _ Imperator.” _

She cast a look over at her, a facade of coolness and unruffled feathers. Words came to mind but none worth really vocalizing, opting to tuck the scanner safely away until she needed it. As the Geomancer joined them she nudged her horse forward, the commands of Banner Sergeants following in her wake. A sinuous line of death rode behind her, and here she was ready to put people down.

The Premier had some of it right. It was easy for one butcher to call another out.

Horseback made the journey far faster than walking did before, presenting her with less opportunities to think of the implications she was about to carry out. Originally she had all intentions to just confirm and leave them to their butchery, but she doubted the War Machine would appreciate their  _ Imperator _ backing off like a coward. It wasn’t like the Thralls on the moon; they were barely intelligent. These were  _ people,  _ functioning and alive and able to talk.

Bile rolled in her stomach and she couldn’t blame it on the approaching stench.

Again she thought that Haruka would have been a far better choice than her, questioning the Queen’s decision yet again. Her planet might be known for all things lovely and beautiful, her now defunct religion did worship the Goddess of such things, but a  _ lot  _ had changed in the eleven years it had been. She didn’t believe in love, not anymore, and especially not after the one of her affections and intentions laughed in her face and worse.

It was always the ‘and worse’ that got to her.

She wanted to be bitter and jaded but here she was, giving a  _ chance  _ to things that didn’t  _ deserve  _ it in the first place. Someone would point out that was love; she’d just say she was tired and wanted to get shit done and over with.

Reining up at the outskirts she was none too surprised to realize the Premier had matched her pace, stopping alongside her. Back a few feet was the Geomancer, that great axe of hers at the ready as though she expected an attack on the way here. The soldiers brought along formed up to ranks, waiting to hear if they must dismount first or merely charge forward.

“Are you certain you can stomach such a thing,  _ Imperator. _ Butchery is not for the faint of heart.”

She’d love nothing more than to kick her upside that snarling visage over and over again until her foot got tired. Instead she reached for the scanner, ignoring the goading remark to focus on the screen instead. It still read the same thing like it had on the moon, watching as the rest of the screen filled with dots at the perimeter and soft beeps.

Earth was going to be a mess.

“Eh? Eh? Wut are you butchers doin’ back ‘ere? Eh! Eh! Ain’t have ‘nough huh!”

Her gaze rose, picking out the scrawny, yet  _ dangerous,  _ man of before. Wizardry was powerful, even at his age, more so being Touched by Darkness. While she would be able to keep herself protected from his spells she couldn’t do the same for the two she needed alive in her far-reaching scheme. “We seemed to have met on the wrong foot. Perhaps you are more inclined to listen now, without the spells or the rocks.”

“Eh?” He spat to the side, a signal likely to the others who inhabited this diseased pisshole. “Ain’t talkin’ to no Martian butchers. Should git ‘fore I send more.”

“So you are the one who sent them.”

“O’course I did ya stupid bitch. I’ll send more if ya don’t git. Send ‘nough to finish killin’ those you they missed. Your skull’s gonna look real pretty fer me to shit in when yer dead.”

Well it was better than being skull fucked perhaps. A wayward thought as she put the scanner away, glancing to either beside her. The Geomancer wore her expression openly, but she suspected the Premier had the same look.

“No. I don’t believe you will. I am not a Martian, and I won’t hold them back from their desires in this.” Raising her arm in the air she brought it forward with a shout, “War Machine! Raze this shit hole and all within until there’s nothing left save scorched earth!”

Roaring shouts filled her ears as the surge behind her came to life with brandished weapons and horses hooves. She watched as the man, perhaps not at all expecting that she’d actually order such a thing, raise his hand. Wary of a spell it simply took lightning precision before one of her few remaining throwing spikes lodged itself cleanly between his eyes. The Geomancer was the first to reach inside the perimeter of the village, that axe of hers that had cleaved through so many chains tore equally through flesh with the same tenacity.

She stayed put in the saddle, her hands keeping firm hold on the horse’s reins as absolute carnage unfolded before her eyes. With another first hand account she watched as soldiers killed indiscriminately, putting down anything that could even remotely think of doing something that was not dying.

“Are you so satisfied with merely one, a frail old man at that.” It was so close to being an actual question, the words a lilting purr despite the raised voices and agonizing screams.

Maybe later she’d pride herself on it, if she could determine that it  _ was  _ something to be proud of. “No. I think I’d like to see the real butcher at work.” Infusing just enough charm to her otherwise tired voice she would have been willing to go so far as to smile at the damn Premier, or wink at her, or even give a seductive shift of her body to better show off her still rather young, nubile form.

Oh that damn helmet ruined everything, especially her expressions. But the rest of the clues were there of how afflicted her words were. The Premier’s hands jerked at her own horse’s reins, causing the horse to dance unwittingly with side steps. She even almost fell from the saddle, a hand having to go to the saddle horn before she collected herself.

“Raze this to the ground Premier, and check to see if they have anything worthwhile. You and your men certainly have earned this carnage, so you might as well revel in it completely.”

She knew she was being looked at, regarded for long moments, before the Premier rode off without a sound save for her drawn sword. Left alone at last she felt her shoulders slump, the need for the facade falling away as the looting began. This probably was not the way that any of this should have gone, and really all it was doing was affirming the Scholar’s words of stooping down to her level. It couldn’t be helped, especially as the village had sent the Darkness their way. There was no telling how much they reported nor how quickly the word spread.

The fire came next, burning at otherwise decomposing buildings. Dried and uncared for it erupted quickly enough towards the heavens as the soldiers returned, falling back into formation. Between two of them was someone’s cloak, laden with coins and gems. Another pair carried back swords, with another after that holding what looked to be a chain shirt and studded leather armor. The Geomancer followed suit, a shit eating grin across her face and her blood stained axe.

The level of efficiency displayed was nothing less than impressive.

The Premier was the last to return, the flames dying down in her wake until only wisps of smoke remained from the smoldering ruins. The forces parted with well practiced movements so she could take the lead once more. Reining up she looked over at her, going so far as to pull her helmet off. Hair not even tousled by the protective device just added to the image of her unstoppable nature, eyes alight in some lustful throe. “I trust that was an informative display, _ Imperator.” _

Watching her for a moment more it was difficult to pull her interests away but she did, riding through the lines with some honest to fuck difficulty. Especially with those  _ eyes  _ burning a hole in her back.


	13. The Resentful Ones

“Ya know, target dummies don’t hit back.” The statement came easily from her as she sat outside. Earth was nice, since she actually had a chance to sit and enjoy the scenery for once. It was a far cry from all those times she was here razing things until the land would support life no longer. 

It had been two months apparently, all according to the Scholar; that brought a grin to her face, since the business with the village and their arrival on Earth from its moon. That wasn’t to say that it had been a length of time of her sitting on her ass either. A lot of time had been spent reading the lay of the land, something that her people were skilled in but still needed to learn. More so when the Imperator didn’t want excessive damage in the process. Then they had to somehow figure out how to describe to the Scholar what they saw. She wasn’t a cartographer in the least but she was the closest thing they had to it. Sometimes hours would be had just waiting for her to rapidly type away on her little computer, building a program that could read the paper maps and then the abilities of the Terramancers. It still needed to be checked for accuracy, meaning it was a lot of back and forth to get something right.

“They also don’t try to decapitate me either.” The Imperator stopped in her work out of sparring against the inanimate object. 

“Ya I can see where that’d be a problem.” She laughed easily, happy when the woman joined in for a few moments. By and large they knew who the other was referring to, a name or title that didn’t need to be mentioned.

“Have your people found anything yet?” The question came as the Imperator turned back to her session. Her stance was weird, her fighting style was just as strange. While she was all for ending things quickly, none did it quite with the speed or unconventional methods that their leader employed. She wasn’t a stranger to a good punch or even a kick, but this woman took it to a level she couldn’t comprehend. On rare occasions she’d spar with one of the War Machine, no one too significantly high. In the matter of seconds she’d have the person disarmed and on the ground. Sometimes she didn’t even bother disarming them before sending them to the ground.

Then inevitably someone higher up would come and want to show her up, despite the fact they were hers to command. The more showboating they did, the more boasting… it all determined how much she’d beat their asses in.

“I got five checking someplace few hundred miles east of here. Eight more think they found somethin’ suitable about a thousand away. Cupa’more are talkin’ with the Scholar about her maps.”

“So fifteen of you are working?”

She laughed; it seemed that way. “Seems you’re lettin’ the Martians have a relax so might as well.” The Imperator looked in her direction for a moment before a kick that went clear over her head followed. “We got a couple parties out investigating. Scholar said she might have identified a few towns. Said that was important.”

The woman stopped; winded but she had been at this for close to an hour as it was. She never gave so much as a glimpse of her features, just her eyes, and she never seemed to be spotted eating or drinking anything.

She wasn’t like Rei, or the Scholar, or herself for that matter. But she sure did a great job of impersonating that she was. “It is. We’re going to run low on supplies eventually. They’re going to get bored and lazy soon if they don’t have something to do.”

It made sense to her, nodding her agreement before she caught sight of the Premier on her way. The woman hadn’t calmed; really Rei needed to relax before she blew something vital in her body, but she hadn’t exactly been snappish as of late either.

Sounded like a prime opportunity to her if there ever was one. A question though caught her off guard, looking blankly at the covered woman.

“Can I borrow your axe?”

“Ya wanna borrow Death’s Verdict?”

“You gave your axe a name?”

“O’course I did, doesn’t everyone?” The Premier stopped in her tracks; maybe she thought she walked in on something but Rei liked being stoic so much that she couldn’t _help_ but prod at her. “Lookit the Premier here. Betcha she’s named her sword Imperator so she has an excuse to touch it all the time.”

She loved the deadpan look the Premier shot her, murderous rage held in check by the fact she _couldn’t_ go for her sword and be proven right.

The Imperator, for that matter, seemed to take it in stride. “Could be, but I bet it was something more intimate than her sword.” Her hand was presented forward, open, and waiting for the axe. Once handed over she immediately discovered how heavy it was, narrowly missing cleaving her foot in the process. “Ooof… I didn’t think it was this damn _heavy…_ and you swing this thing with a single hand? Fuck.”

She laughed, ignoring how Rei was glowering and probably trying to think up a witty comeback. “Well yeah. Whatcha want my axe fer anyway?”

“I was going to run around camp with it but I’m having second thoughts.” The woman managed, with both hands, to at least pick it up, but the head still rested against the ground.

“Well here, you can borrow this.” Pushing up from her seat; the War Machine made nice little portable chairs and she had no problem using one for her own purposes. Unbuckling her harness that carried the axe around for her, she held it up for the woman’s inspection. When she received a nod, she helped the other into it, completely ignoring the jealous rage Rei was building herself into. It was like a personal fire pit that, a blaze that would ward off even the coldest chills and howling winds.

The Imperator was built, she’d give her that. Muscle in all the right areas and firmness. At least that confirmed she was human after all, and not some spirit that had no definite shape. After a while your imagination got the best of you, but now at least she could attest to the validity of her existence. Reaching for her axe she slipped it into place, watching as the woman staggered a few steps before righting anew.

“Fuck… I’ll be lucky to make it around the camp once with this. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.” Looking between them the Imperator shook her head, starting out at an easy jog to the perimeter of the camp.

“You’re gonna start a fire with all that rage.” She took her seat again, noting that Rei still had her gaze locked on the growing smaller form of their leader. Truth be told she hadn’t seen the other this _smitten_ over anything in all the time that she knew her; years really. It was borderline obsessive if she had to call it anything.

Then that gaze came to focus on her and it felt mighty uncomfortable until the Premier took her own seat. “I don’t need your antagonizing.”

“You’re the one making a bloody fool o’yerself in front of her. All that spitfire and fer what ‘xactly?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Aw come off it Rei. Ya ain’t gotta be the big bad Premier of Mars all the time. I think you like her.” With a smile she finished her declaration, knowing it was going to incite an explosion and truth be told, she was rather _bored_ just sitting around.

The glare could have stripped armor off of anyone. For that matter, the flesh from their bones. It was dangerous playing with fire, but so was it to dance with lightning. “We are all _adults_ here _Makoto,_ not children.”

“You need to get laid, yer always a bitch when someone hasn’t given you a decent fuck to calm yer ass down. Why don’t you just tell the woman you want ‘er to jump yer bones and be done with it?”

All she was awarded was a scoffing sound.

“Is it ‘cause she’s yer leader? Do ya got a complex that ya might not be able to per-” She should have stopped, but she did manage to find the extent that she could goad and prod Rei before she had enough. It was smoothly done, but so was the woman, her sword out and currently testing the resilience of skin at her neck.

Fire had nothing on her gaze, eyes of that amethyst shade were positively blazing in a furor. She didn’t feel warm though; quite the opposite that it was _cold_ here now. Chalk it up, she _had_ pushed a bit _too_ far but she remembered the old Rei, that while stoic still knew how to laugh.

“That’s to say… none of my business.” Offering the truce was better to do, more so when the Imperator told them _not_ to kill one another and she rather liked the woman to begin with.

There wasn’t even a nick to her skin when the sword moved away, a testament that with it, Rei was skilled and deadly. She acted like nothing occurred, merely leaning back in her chair and looking disinterestedly around the camp.

The lightning never took advice from anyone though, “It still stands. You should tell her how you feel. She might appreciate knowing you’re not trying to kill her.”

“Are you both giggling girls now. Do you meet to braid each other’s hair while gossiping over some rumor.”

“I swear… I’m here ‘cause it gives me somethin’ to do. I can’t help that you got yer ass kicked and here outta obligation. Your time could go a lot easier if you just fuckin’ relax for once. She knows what yer capable of, yer men know who you are, but you might actually get to hear _her laugh_ if you get that stick outta yer ass.”

It drew no answer from Rei, which was surprising really. The woman still had that same stoic expression, leaning however more towards apathetic. Minutes passed before she finally said _anything,_ her voice full of thought and still, somehow reluctant to share what she was thinking. “She’s marked as property of the Crown. Only my father or I would do such a thing, and I can’t recall if _I_ did it.” She pushed to her feet easily, about to walk off when the Scholar approached.

“Oh. I thought the Imperator might be here. Do either of you know where she went?” It took about a week but the woman from Mercury finally dressed down, her military-style coat traded for a simplistic shirt instead. Earth apparently was more temperate than her home, unlike the moon.

“She’s doin’ laps ‘round the camp right now. Why, somethin’ up?”

“I have her good news she’s been waiting for. Your … troops … and a few of the Terramancers found a town. It’s completely isolated which might be how it survived. They didn’t approach but did confirm it is occupied.” The Scholar didn’t like Rei and she couldn’t blame her. Seemed that Mars liked raiding Earth a lot for things, and Mercury relied on Earth for things they needed. Once she got over her initial shyness, the Scholar was willing to talk about almost anything.

“She mentioned somethin’ about a town bein’ important. I don’t think she’ll be long, if ya wanna wait. The Premier and I were havin’ a nice chat ‘bout the weather.”

Rei actually rolled her eyes at her, but she didn’t correct her or offer anything more than merely folding her arms before her like she always did. Her favorite pose, perhaps. The Scholar looked between them before taking a seat, her computer in hand, probably wondering truly what she had walked in on and interrupted. She thought about recruiting the woman to her cause of goading Rei into admitting her attraction for the Imperator, debating before again coming to the conclusion she _was_ rather _bored._

“Hey, do ya think that the Premier an’ Imperator would make a cute couple?”

It all happened at once. The Scholar dropped her computer, a desperate grab made towards it before it could land on the dirt was for naught. It came in time with a cry of dismay, renewed when the valuable equipment landed. A burst of fire filled her peripheral vision as once more, she prodded _too_ far and requests be damned, Rei wanted blood.

_“Thal’s fucking balls the hell are you idiots doing?!”_ Cue as well the Imperator who witnessed it all, the weight of the axe completely forgotten as she ran in to intercede.

A note to herself, find a better means to alleviate boredom.

* * *

Skula Dur survived all this time thanks to its isolated location, and in reality, to the wards of non-detection that seemed to allow the Darkness to slide by it without even noticing. The town, bordering in some regards as a city, existed by sheer luck that was slowly running out. The wards, constructed by powerful wizards decades ago, were essentially technology that no resident understood. That bloodline had been unceremoniously disposed of roughly twenty years ago. Apparently, someone had a wild hair up their ass to re-establish contact again with someone, and proceeded to walk into a Pool.

The rest was that. They were not allied with the Moon Queen, nor part of the Alliance, but they knew all about the War Machine that it took considerable diplomacy and assurances on her part to even allow a handful; seven of them, inside. Assurances that they would not harm anyone, look at anyone cross eyed, and if they were looked at in such a matter not take matters into their own hands and kill. They also had to leave their weapons outside; that went over _well,_ but the trades people agreed that they would barter and sell to them tomorrow.

She finally hammered it all out with their council, fielding questions about the state of the planet, the Moon, the Darkness in general, what her purpose was, and that she _wasn’t_ part of the War Machine, merely instead was _leading_ them in the name of the Lunar Queen in a systematic purge of the Darkness.

At this point she was quite ready to do about _anything,_ as they held the single most coveted object of her desires.

A bath house.

Placated enough she was allowed to go about her business, which saw the dismissal of everyone to go wait outside, entering the establishment with a sigh of relief. It wasn’t like _home,_ but it seemed close in a lot of regards. Constructed of marble, she could see the rolling coils of steam even in the entryway, feeling hope blossom for once within her breast and excitement take hold. A tiled mosaic of pleasing patterns to the eye decorated the surfaces of the stone, while soft fragrances she could barely recall filled the air.

“Someone who might finally appreciate this place. You’re the outsider, what brings you to my establishment?”

The woman was older than her, older than certainly Michiru and Haruka. Maybe on par with Luna, but it was hard to tell with the woman from Mau as it were. Her hair was done in intricate braids, coiled atop her head and appeared not to be her natural hair color. Her clothing, billowing and in soft colors, reminded her more and more of home. Distant memories of the Temple peered through the fog before she shoved them away. “I’m looking for a bath. The hotter the better.”

“A hot bath hm? You’ve come to the right place.” The woman offered her hand, “Saqis.”

No point in letting her curiosity remain unsated. She accepted the handshake, aware of her own hand coverings but moved on past the social awkwardness. “You’re Venusian.”

The woman, Saqis, frowned at once at the mention. “That’s not something to accuse someone of being.”

“No no, I mean no disrespect.” The prospect of a proper bath was falling away, slipping through her fingers. Raising a hand she pushed the concealing cowl to bunch around her mouth instead. “Especially given that I am as well.”

The _annoying_ trait of Venusians, physically at least, was their rather consistent hair and eye color. While deviations existed naturally, especially if they married an outsider to the planet, they all generally had either the blonde hair or blue eyes of their creator and Goddess. One may have darker hair of course, or eyes of green, but generally speaking…

Saqis continued to frown at her, not swayed. After all, women dyed their hair all the time.

“Look, I want a bath, and I’ll pay beyond what you’re asking for it. Please.” It was far more valuable than the service in return, but her hand reached inside the heavier outer shirt, producing one of the few things she had left. Suspended on a delicate golden chain, a single orange topaz artfully surrounded by a thin, gold frame. 

Offering it out the proprietor took it with reservation, looking at it for a moment before sharply at her. “This is of Venusian make.”

Oh Michiru would have a fit at her decorum but it was a chance at her _bath._ She didn’t _care._ “Please, the bath?” It wasn’t a word she wanted to say again, not when it didn’t bring her mercy when uttered before.

The consideration weighed for a handful of seconds before Saqis finally nodded, an almost curt “follow me” uttered before she was led deeper inside. Strings of beads in a multitude of colors ran from the ceiling to the floor, clattering as they parted to give way to the baths themselves. Four deep tubs and four smaller ones in total, intercepted by benches and inserts for hot coals. The same pleasing mosaic decorated the surfaces, playing tricks on the eyes and distorting shapes of any occupants.

Venus was like that, all sensual seduction and teasing glimpses. It reminded her more and more of home, stopping her in her tracks as each breath brought with it the scents of vanilla, jasmine, and hibiscus flowers. 

This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t _be_ here, on Earth. She should have stayed home, even if it meant going against her rather unfavorable Goddess’ wishes that she travel to Mars. She never should have gotten caught up in the fanciful daydreams, much less even given them any _thought_ in the first place.

Her shoulders slumped and she felt the shaky inhale that always signaled the start of tears. If only… then none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t _have_ the mental and physical reminders.

She felt hands at her shoulders, steering her to a bench. Numbly, or maybe it was really dumbly, her body did as directed, letting the sniffle escape in the process.

“Come now, you say you’re Venusian. You know what you’re supposed to do first.” Saqis’ teasing voice broke her remorseful reverie, looking at her expectantly.

Well, maybe. Part of her longed for that life again but the other part shunned it, deeming it unworthy and hardly important. A shaky breath and her fickle resolve returned, undressing completely. Into the smaller tub she went, the water not as hot but still warmer than what she had managed to have access to at the encampment. Meant to physically cleanse as well adjust her body to a hotter temperature, she was barely aware that the proprietor continued to regard her.

Right, everything was on display.

“This was the last place I really expected to see something like this.” She offered, scrubbing her legs until they took on a slightly red-tinged hue. 

“It was rather happenstance that this even came to be. One tragedy though is met by success, but I think at times it’s just prolonging the inevitable. Between the wards failing and a contingent of the War Machine outside, it’s hard to say what is better.”

“What do you mean?”

Green eyes fixed on her, narrowing slightly and weighing. “When was the last time you were there?”

“Eleven years. I … eventually plan to return.”

The woman shook her head, taking a seat on the bench by her. “There’s nothing to go back to. About … eight or nine years ago; the calendar here still confuses me, a volcano erupted near Alpha Regio. At first, no one really thought much of it save the loss of life, calling it merely a natural disaster. The volcano was overdue to erupt, they said, things like that. It was shortly after, perhaps a month or two, when Maat Mons began to rumble that the seriousness of it was becoming apparent. In a panic perhaps, though justified, people looked for a means away, and ideally, off the planet completely before it, too, could erupt. Lacking ships capable of really leaving, considerable effort was placed into making it possible. What ships capable and still present demanded unheard of wealth for a boarding pass, sending already costly investments to a bloodbath. While martial law was declared, it didn’t soothe over anything; rioting following suit with even more deaths. The rumbles lasted for a few weeks; six I believe, minor plumes of ash and small earthquakes, before the planet finally had enough. I joined a small shuttle planning to leave; perhaps at the right time. Maat Mons erupted in a fury akin to the Goddess’ own wrath at being spurned with Ganis Chasma joining in. Most of the ships in the sky were obliterated in the ensuing destruction; I counted perhaps five that cleared orbit. We arrived here on Earth due to fuel supplies, Mercury was out of the question due to its transit. Most of my traveling companions went elsewhere or were killed; I stayed here because it was rather nice. In time I founded this bathhouse, and that’s been that.”

She had no idea where to even start, her mouth wide and gaping. The bath, the fighting, everything was forgotten in the relating of what befell her home. Her voice sounded small, foreign to her ears, reminding her of when she first arrived on Uranus all those years ago. “What … what about the Queen? Did …?” Nothing more wanted to be vocalized, not for lack of trying on her part.

“Her Grace?” Saqis thought about it for a long moment. “I think I recall that she went to the temple by Maat Mons to pray and commune with the planet to discover what was wrong. I don’t know after that.”

Her shoulders slumped as her gaze dropped to the water. It was probably safer to say everyone she knew was dead than it was to assume that they still were alive. Part of her wondered if the Darkness had something to do with it; the whole System was infected after all.

It felt like life just vacated in a hurry, leaving her to wonder again, what was the point. She might single handedly save the System but what was the point. What even was left after that? She wasn’t like Haruka and Michiru who had each other. It was cute maybe, between the Scholar and Geomancer, but all she could really see were fractures and splinters, harsh lines and absolutes that refused to compromise.

Thal’s balls, don’t even get her started on the Premier. It didn’t _help_ she still felt that attraction to her. What was once mysterious turned quickly dangerous and _still_ she had a hard enough time keeping her thoughts aligned towards the purpose at hand.

“Who did you run afoul of?”

Snapping from her dismal, wayward thoughts she rose from the one tub to immediately sink into the other. What felt like years of stress released itself in a pleasing sound of relief. Aches and pains, reminders and memories, scoured themselves from her in enveloping heat.

Right. Questions. 

“I followed the Goddess’ teachings and urges. I was young, shortly after my sixteenth name day. I thought I could dazzle and enchant the Premier of Mars.”

There was a look of sympathy, pain and sorrow, cast back at her. “Does she know? Noticed you were trying to conceal yourself in your clothing.”

“Nope, which makes it all the more the best.” She found it hard to focus on conversation at this point, the hot water having its way with her and for once, she wasn’t going to fight. Completely missing what Saqis said about her clothing or anything more, her eyes closed leaving it all behind. Just under her chin the water came, her head tilted back in a natural recess within the tub.

Between the steam and pattern cast by both design and water, it was nigh impossible to make most anything out unless it was directly in front of her face. Despite her best intentions her thoughts returned to being young, dumb really, full of fanciful boasting that she could capture the heart of the mysterious but oh so beautiful Premier of Mars. It was so easy to ignore the whispered rumors, the growing concern of the War Machine that was setting its sights beyond their planet.

It had been ages since she felt pleasure. She knew how to, of course, every Venusian did, but her mind had a hard time deriving pleasure out of her own touches to her skin when all she could remember was that leering, cruel smirk. Words really meant nothing; she had long since forgotten or locked away most of the things said to her, but she couldn’t forget what it was like to feel _ugly._ Ugly and _repulsive._

For someone who had no modesty; what was that anyway, she quickly developed a sense of it. A fear, a developing phobia… it didn’t matter how neutral Michiru could keep her features when helping her when she first arrived, or how Haruka would playfully flirt about blondes sticking together. She felt it and the physical reminders never helped matters.

That’s why she loved this bath, soaking away cares and worries for a least a little while. She couldn’t see, and it made it so much easier to lie to herself about everything around her.

A soft moan slipped from her lips as a shift in the tub brought a new flood of enveloping warmth that seemingly cradled her body. At this rate she might just not ever _want_ to leave.

Save that there was a presence.

A single eye opened, the other joining suit as the standing visage of the Premier came to view.

Thal’s fucking balls. Could she not get peace?

She knew the steam, she knew the distortion. She also knew she was finally warm for once that she _couldn’t_ care that she was being intruded upon. “You have a horrible problem with following orders.”

“I said I was your escort back to the encampment.” Neutrally delivered, trying so hard to pierce through the fog and water to _see_ her, while trying _not_ to look like it was exactly what she was doing.

“And you still can’t follow fucking orders.” Her hand lifted from the water, leaving the sound of drops falling back to their creator. This was a tease, something she learned and knew how to do. “What do you want? I’m _busy.”_

She knew how to look, how to peer through the steam. The Premier was attentive, her helmet gone; two could play this game though, though the Martian tried so very much to play it all off. “How can you stand this.”

“Mm,” her hand returned to the bath, smirking herself. “For one, I’m in water, so I don’t have to feel every line of sweat form and run between my breasts, or along the small of my back, or over the curve of my rather firm ass. I’m sure donning a suit of armor has its advantages, but not _here.”_ Play with fire and you will get burned, but fuck with her bath time and she would have no qualms with turning the tables back on the Premier.

Oh she tried to hide it with a shift in her stance, the sound of her armor against itself, but it was difficult when she would find herself mostly, evenly, matched in this arena.

“So as you see, Premier, this doesn’t bother me at all. Your presence here was not requested.”

Stubbornly, obstinately, the Premier merely sat down on the bench next to her apparently freshly laundered clothing. Her fingers moved aside layers of garments, running bare fingers against the material’s construction. They stopped at her panties, her voice that level of wounding teasing only _she_ could pull off. “I would have never thought orange.”

Her fingers merely flicked the water. That her aim was good to land droplets on the woman well… that was just a testament to her own sort of skills.

“There are far better ways of making me _wet_.”

“That knowledge would indicate that I gave a damn about your pleasure butcher, which I do not.”

“Back to our cute little names for one another I see. I shall have to find one fitting for you, pet.”

She didn’t let the sound of displeasure find vocalization, merely settling deeper into the water until it danced just under her nose. How different it would have been, had the woman not been how she was. If things had gone differently, how much easier it would have been to purge the Darkness together, instead of this sadistic coupling they put each other through. There were plenty of rumors that the Martian drew pleasure from the discomfort of others, subjecting willing participants to acts of debasement. Certainly her own experiences would have told her that, save that somehow it was mild in comparison.

She was still alive, after all. That accounted for a lot.

Her hand reached, finding the small ladle placed by the coals. A dip of it in water and she slowly poured it out, sending a plume of angry steam rising. She was here to enjoy her bath that she overpaid for, both in monetary funds and exertions of her body, not to have the irritable woman take it away. Settling back into the still hot water she coolly regarded the sweating Martian, her facade of the temperatures not bothering her falling away moment by precious moment.

Pride would keep her in her place, her unwillingness to let outside factors compromise her word. In some cases it was rather admirable, just not when her obstinate nature was against her sound and rational orders. “If you are going to sit there fantasizing about me, you can make yourself useful with the coals.”

A snort was her reply, figuring as much. “I am here to fight your pointless battles, not be your maid.”

“Mm, is that it? This whole thing is pointless to you, yet you agreed; _twice,_ no less, to follow.”

“My _honor_ dictates I keep my word even to the undeserving.”

Unable to help it she snickered, keeping it short lived but no less biting in its delivery. “Your honor, you say? There're graves full of people who said the very same thing.”

“Your mockery proves my point.”

“Oh sweet Premier, you have no _idea._ You call it _honor_ when you pillage and purge. You call it _honor_ to separate families and induce lives of servitude to your great War Machine. You forget, _butcher,_ I know full and well what the agreement was between you and the Queen, the desperation great enough that she would sell the lives of those who survive to see the Darkness purged just so they can become cattle to your iron fisted rule.”

“That includes you, dear _Imperator,_ when this is over.”

Her smile was wolfish, a shift in the water as she rose at the far end of the tub. She hardly cared as she emerged, how the water ran in caressing rivets down her warmed flesh, her lower body embraced by the water as she stared down the Premier. It didn’t matter she was naked, that her face was fully on display; from her rough scarred cheek where she had been backhanded with the Premier’s gauntleted fist for crying out and her missing teeth that festered into a nasty infection after being broken. It didn’t matter the induced scars on her wrists when she pulled hard on the chains in efforts to escape the brand or when she hung suspended, forgotten about truly, until an unlikely rescue. It didn’t matter the scarring along her left shoulder where she had dislocated her arm and tore her joint, just like it didn’t matter her burned flesh that ran between her breasts, courtesy of the Premier’s own precious fire.

She stared her down, watching as the Martian tried to hide it and not squirm. Their roles could have been reversed, so effective was her pining glare. “No. It won’t.” Her voice was soft but backed in fire-forged steel, flaring in her eyes. “Take your look so you can finger yourself later over it, and get out of my fucking bath.” 

Her arms easily moved back, a backstroke and she was back to the other end of the tub, settling back to the relaxation she earned.


	14. Screams of the Wounded

The rain came down in a torrential outburst, displaying the raw power of a storm. Dark clouds littered the sky, allowing little to no light to penetrate down to the surface. It might have helped, had it been able to. Occasionally, a flash of lightning lit up the cloud cover, but there was no accompanying rumble of thunder. Perhaps she had it wrong in her beliefs; perhaps it was thunder  _ then  _ lightning. Either way, the only sound was that of the rain.

And the sucking sound of trying to walk. Deep, sopping mud was the expanse of the terrain outside of the wayward rock and tree stump, clinging to feet and greatly hampering progress that was meant for forward movement. Here and there she could make out a tree, a dark mass against an already dark horizon. 

This was, by and far, her least favorite of places to be. The company simply did not help either.

Behind her half a dozen paces last she bothered to really keep track, the Imperator struggled with movement as much as she did. Both of them were separated from the others; another SigilRipper lost their lives and who knew how many Martians until rejoining was possible for her to get a count. 

It was her misfortune to be stuck with  _ her  _ in such a place.

A month according to Earth’s time had passed since that little  _ confrontation  _ occurred in town, a month spent trying to shove aside the whispers of malice that silenced themselves when she was in close proximity to the damn woman. A month trying to recall just what Phobos and Deimos had said about meditation, thus another month of regretting her rashness of telling them they would remain on Mars. 

It was simply too late  _ now  _ to request them. Not when she was slogging through Jupiter’s waterlogged terrain. 

She was trying to  _ remember _ , to  _ recall  _ anything that would explain the woman’s appearance. From the branding mark to the way she just  _ looked  _ at her like she  _ knew  _ her. To say it bothered her was an understatement, more so when she put so much effort into maintaining her composure and not giving into a bloodthirsty rage and the voices that cajoled, intimidated, pled, and otherwise demanded .

The lack of knowledge she had in the situation was not settling well with her, much preferring to know  _ everything  _ instead of these snippets that were driving her to madness. Inquiring, even presenting it as a  _ question  _ would get her nowhere, as the agreement said  _ after  _ things were done would be when she would receive her answers. Just how far was this mad woman planning on dragging her? Eventually losses would be insurmountable and then what? Mars was not full of combat ready troops, and each she lost was a warranted scene of displeasure from the King.

At any moment he could recall her and her forces, and should she choose to answer such a thing from him, that would be the end of this infuriating woman’s conquest, unless she could magically conjure an army with a snap of her fingers. 

She did not like this, this place, this situation, or anything. 

Her foot slipped in the muck and she came down hard on her knee, sending a lance of fire up her leg and back. Her temper would get the best of her much sooner than later; the whispers had been screeching wails ever since the portal dumped them on this fuck infested planet. With a labored breath she rallied to free herself only to sink that much further.

Where she had been annoyed before gave way to anger. She would have screamed save it was so undignified to, but she couldn’t help the growl that escaped in its place. Pushing with her hands she finally freed herself, lumbering away to firmer ground, though it wasn’t by much. Just her pride was all she could determine being hurt, a  _ fine  _ thing to be wounded given her  _ company. _

It was too fucking dark, too stormy, and she wanted to leave. She was getting too hot, grateful certainly that her armor and clothes were waterproof and designed to allow her body to breathe, but not meant for heavy excursions like this. Hardly a stranger to fighting it wasn’t the same as trekking cross-country in a fucking storm to…

Wherever the fuck they were going anyway? The Imperator had one of the scanners, her pace much slower due to looking at it nearly all the time. As near as she could tell, she was content to keep following her. As though  _ she  _ knew where to go. It had been  _ years  _ since she had been on Jupiter, the planet massive that knowing where  _ anything  _ was at was completely out of the question.

Straightening up the landscape remained the same, which was to say she could not make anything of significance out. At this point she wanted a tree to stand under, some means of shelter. Storms could not last for days, at least that was her belief. It  _ was  _ Jupiter however; there was a grand chance a storm  _ could  _ and  _ would  _ last days on end.

A clicking sound, like that of insects at dusk during the warmer months, caught her attention. Strange that, given how it could be heard over the storm. Looking around slowly, though as quickly as her balance on precariously muddy ground was going to allow, she peered into the darkness, looking for the source.

All she was awarded with was a louder sound, reverberating within her helmet. Drowning out the din of the rain, something told her this was wrong. This should not be, it simply did not  _ feel  _ right.

Slowly her hand drifted to her sword, her other held at the ready to summon forth her fire should the sound indeed, not be natural.

“Wa-” was all she heard from the Imperator before the scream came, a wet striking sound heralding it. The clicking sound thrummed to its own climax, something heavy slashing through the air again and all she could do was fall back, footing lost. A screech, unfamiliar yet sounding  _ familiar  _ roared, the heavy thudding sound continuing. Something splattered against her armor; perhaps it was mud, the  _ thing  _ coming closer.

Her teeth bared, fire filling her hand, illuminating in the darkness. Try as the storm might it was no match, hisses of steam rising as the fireball was hurled straight before her.

Another screech. Mandibles slashed before her, what appeared to be an overgrown; grossly  _ overgrown  _ at that, mantis. Save it bore far more limbs, counting at least six before the fire died out. The heavy sound came faster, confusing her senses if it was just one or many, fire springing to her hand again as she struggled back to her feet.

A wave of her hand and following of fire appeared, fanning out before her. It drove the  _ thing  _ back half a sharp poled foot back, before it lunged forward at her, maw snapping. Her sword swung, attempting to drive it back, attempting to wound it, all the while struggling to keep her footing against the ground that didn’t concern itself with her wants.

She had no concern for the Imperator, the planet, anything. Just the moment. The rush of blood filled her ears, pounding like war drums, silencing the voices and their wails for murder and violence as they were getting exactly what they  _ wanted. _ Bringing her sword up she swung, succeeding in wounding one of the mandibles only for the  _ creature  _ to rush her, striking her shoulder, cracking her armor in the process. It sent her bowling over, knocking her back down to the mudded earth and hard against a rotted tree stump by feel and smell.

The muck had no intention of letting her go, barely raising to a knee for the thing to return, toying with her like the predator did its prey. Blasts of fire followed in her wake, driving in back enough she could fully stand again. Both hands grasped her sword, a line of fire burning along the edge as she roared. For each swinging attack she gave, the creature either dodged or deflected it.

It teased her, testing her capabilities without allowing her the opportunity to do much else. All it truly did was provoke her towards rashness, especially when combined with the pouring rain. Moving in to attack again its feet rose easily from the mud below, flipping her up in the air with a startled cry before she came down hard.

A sickening snap and the world became fire.

Pain lanced sharply through her leg, her flickering blade showcasing her  _ leg  _ bent at an angle it should not naturally be in from her landing against the stump. The creature allowed for no respite however, moving in for potentially the kill. A swiping mandible ripped pieces of her armor apart like mere delicate paper, leaving deep gashes in her flesh and drawing her femur to the surface. Her breastplate followed, already weakened and compromised by the rush it did earlier. Pain flooded her arm, her hand spasming in response. Her fire, suffering from her lack of concentration, served only to piss the creature off more. A more concentrated display would have helped could she manage it, scrambling backwards proving to be pointless as each movement jarred her and reintroduced already shooting pain through her.

_ “...DaUgHtEr Of SlAuGhTeR … rEmEmBeR tHe PaCt…”  _ The  _ creature  _ hissed at  _ her,  _ mandibles raised high in the few fleeting moments of light that existed. The voice was jarring, scraping, just as it had been on stupid Earth. It  _ knew  _ her, it could  _ speak,  _ and she wanted no part of it.

She was going to fucking  _ die  _ to something like this.

“Get away from her dammit!” Belatedly she looked to her left where the sound originated from. A fireball appeared from the end of the Saturn made rod, illuminating the Imperator’s features. Blonde hair was plastered to her head from the rain, her stupid headdress torn and flat against her neck. Her expression was fiercely beautiful, anger shining like a beacon in the dismal night as she balanced on a hand and her knees from her crawling trek up the hill they had been trying to traverse. The fireball slammed into the creature for long seconds, the rain continuing but no match to the powers she commanded, albeit temporarily, the fire unrelenting until the stored spell winked out.

The smell of burnt unnatural things filled the air, silence returning outside of that of rain. She groaned, flopping back down to the ground, panting hard. 

She didn’t care. She was  _ alive.  _ In pain sure, but alive. 

Consciousness though began to fade in and out with each labored breath, losing track of time. She couldn’t  _ breathe,  _ realizing in a panic before hands that were not her own struggled to remove her helmet, fighting with the buckles before they gave way. Cold water instantly splattered on her face, followed by something warm. It was too dark to see. A breath. She could manage that.

She felt hands roughly at her neck next, fingers pressing hard to her skin.

A heartbeat. A breath.

Something warm  _ again  _ fell against her face. It was a contradictory sort of thing, used to being hot all the time, subjected to a cold rain, and feeling something like liquid fire fall against her skin at intervals she couldn’t track.

Hands at her leg, sending new ways of hurt throughout her body. She thought she heard a mutter but perhaps it was all just her imagination. Staying conscious and awake were battles she was losing rapidly.

Another breath, coherent thought fleeing.

Then pain jolted her back awake, nearly screaming, the cry sudden and loud no matter her attitude, before it ended in a whimper. Much worse than her leg being broken was the sensation of it being reset. Something was  _ pushed  _ back into her body, and the lights went out just like she did.

_...Her hands, calloused from swordplay, incited a deeper moan, reverberating against her body and in her ear, as they ran unabashed against skin, finding a spot of pleasure behind a knee. Her lover, whomever her fever riddle mind conjured, bit her earlobe, short nails pressed against her back before raking, a trail of fire following in their wake. The bite metamorphosed into a throaty giggle, lips finding her own for an inciting kiss. In her dream it felt like they had been doing that for hours yet each shift of their naked bodies to one another felt brand new. There were no voices for blood, just passion that she readily fed into.  _

_ The Imperator, save it wasn’t  _ exactly  _ her, though it  _ was. _ Minus all the scars and glares, just want and desire that had been given free reign instead of careful, barely contain control. Her mind had no idea, and dwelling on it was pointless when there were breasts for her hands to be on, nipples for her fingers to roll and pinch. For that matter neither did her mind conjure  _ where  _ or  _ what  _ they were even  _ on,  _ just the desire she had for this woman and the knowledge it was shared, mutual.  _

_ She felt her hand traverse along a thigh, finding the apex of their nature, cupping her sex which felt hot even to  _ her.  _ That throaty moan was there again, fingers tangling in her hair, the blonde’s body arching against her. The overwhelming need to please this woman filled her, her hand rubbing, feeling the woman’s hidden world answer each movement. Liquid heat, warm and slick, greeted her mouth as her face was suddenly there, her tongue reaching... _

Consciousness came back with almost a jerk, returning to it when she felt movement. How long she was out for she couldn’t rightly tell, her eyes rolling more often than not than actually focusing on the dreary weather. Half delirious from her dream it wasn’t like she  _ wanted  _ to recall the present. Something was pulling her along the ground in jerks, tugging under her arms. Dimly she could say it was backwards but what more did it matter after that.

The rain was still there, trickling down her face and completely soaking her hair. Her leg felt like numb fire, throbbing but an ache she was somehow distant from.

“...Goddess… I … hate … you … so … much … Rei…” Between the jerking pulls she swore she heard a voice, panting with exertion. “Fucking … doing … shit … like … this … to … me…” A particularly violent pull was given, feeling the ground under her form the crest of a hill. She was going delirious, she  _ had  _ to be, because she  _ swore  _ she heard the  _ Imperator  _ say her name. Now was not the time to think, but she could not recall any time that she  _ uttered  _ it in the woman’s presence.

Which naturally, begged the question of how she knew.

The dragging continued, their apparent progress slow but all the same, it was progress. Perhaps if she closed her eyes her mind would return to that surprising, but oh so pleasant dream. Shame wasn’t in her lexicon, it wasn’t an emotion she knew. Her eyelids grew heavy, fluttering before giving in to unconsciousness again.

A crack of thunder broke the heavens directly overhead, the flash of lightning bright enough to illuminate everything, akin to the noon sun. It startled her, eyes flying open as her fantasy was forgotten before she could be fully devoted to it again. She heard a loud  _ yelp,  _ her body landing hard to the murky ground and retreating footsteps in the mud. The breath she had left her at once, coherency back in spades.

There was nothing around her, no labored breathing but her own. No presence pulling her. Nothing but mud and rain.

It took far too much effort but she rolled to her side then flatly on her face. Her arms tangled in what was apparently her sword belt, now across her back? Pushing up on her arms the pain that followed said her collar bone was broken, but right now adrenaline kept her going. She heard her sword rattle to the ground where it once rested across her chest. Awkwardly she felt something on her uninjured foot, kicking herself free of her … was that her helmet?

This was all so very disconcerting. 

A dark mass was all she could make out in front of her eyes. Balancing precariously as it felt like on one hand, her other conjured a small flame.

Trees, a cluster of them.

The Imperator’s mud covered form, huddling with her back to her, curled into as tight of a ball that the human form could manage.

How long did it take she didn’t bother to track, concentrating more on one elbow and forearm ahead of the other, dragging herself the handful of yards of distance away it may have been. The numbness continued thankfully enough, but made it no less easier to her ordeal.

Shelter as it was reached at last, she managed to sit up against the tree’s large base, breathing hard. The ground was soaked but somehow not  _ as  _ muddy as everything else had been.

Sobbing. The Imperator was  _ crying,  _ her body shaking from the cold, the rain, who could tell and which was right. Decorum was forgotten about, her muddied hands reached to turn the woman to face her since she wasn’t exactly limber enough to move around easily.

The amount of fight the woman put up was a token resistance really, her shaking working against her if she was trying to be  _ difficult.  _ Her head remained bowed, arms pressing tightly to her face and refusing to be dislodged, her sobs  _ bothering  _ some part of her. That part of her that felt  _ calm  _ in her presence.

“Here, let me see.” Her voice surprised her, gentle and considerably  _ foreign.  _ She wiped her hands on the other’s clothing, finding a clean place that somehow remained. Getting no response she tried the physical approach, carefully pulling her first arm away, then the other to the side.

If ever questioned about the range of emotions she could, and would, allow on her features, this was not one anyone would ever guess.

Blue eyes. No. A blue  _ eye  _ stared at her, welling with freely falling tears. The adrenaline had faded from her, a long raking gash along the left of her face started at her hairline and did not end until it reached her chin, taking with it her eye and exposing bits of her skull where flesh had been parted. She saw no telltale signs of Darkness corruption; the woman had been saved that death only because of the damnable downpour they were in.

The woman was scared, frightened, and looking so  _ lost. _

Blood.

So much blood. 

Her hands felt  _ warm,  _ understanding  _ now  _ what had landed against her face so many times. The creature… it explained the cry from the start. She still managed to crawl  _ back  _ up the hill,  _ saving  _ her life with the spell she had thrown at her with intentions of  _ ending  _ her life on the Moon. She then reset her leg and drug her who fucking knew how  _ far  _ and for what.

For what. There was no secret to their animosity towards one another. It wasn’t like the jabbing Makoto felt like she  _ needed  _ to have, especially to as sore of a subject as the Imperator was. The two of them; snorting mentally at the notion of being a  _ couple  _ yet here  _ they  _ were, operated under a facade of one gave orders and the other obeyed. When truly in reality, had she it her way, she wouldn’t have even agreed to the stupidly given tribute by the Lunar Queen. But it was the perfect opportunity to placate the King, and effectively remove herself from his control in one fell swoop. She’d deliver the stupid system, brought to heel, and she would be out. For once in her life, she would be done.

And now, here she was. In various stages of injury on a stupid rain soaked planet fighting shit that  _ knew  _ who she was and the pact the King had made.

Another flash of lightning and crack of thunder, and the blonde woman wailed, burying her face anew as more sobs came. Fear radiated from her much like the mud coated her clothing.

She was scared, this woman who she had to  _ grudgingly  _ admit captured her attention. This woman who she was  _ fantasizing  _ over, who she didn’t care nor give a damn about, who  _ irritated  _ her beyond  _ anything,  _ was scared. It wasn’t over Darkness or her proximity or being hurt. It was over a simple  _ thunderstorm. _

She swallowed hard, at a loss.

On one hand she could leave her to die. Eventually her crystal would heal her leg to the point she could walk as well as her collar bone. It might take days, months, but she would eventually find civilization. She could get out of this madness and be free.

The choice was taken out of her hands when she pulled the deep red scarf from around her neck and wrapped it as a bandage across the Imperator’s face. If questioned she wouldn’t give a  _ reason  _ for  _ why  _ she did it, just that she  _ did.  _ Because this woman made the voices stop. Because this woman made her feel  _ calm,  _ even when antagonizing her to death with her lack of willingness to simply  _ comply. _

The other didn’t stop sobbing but they seemed more subdued. Taking that time she pulled the remaining bits of her breastplate off, setting the once excellent protection to the side. It  _ was  _ great armor, just not against  _ shit  _ like this. Tenderly she touched around her collar bone, determining that it really  _ was  _ broken. A look was given to her leg instead, seeing no signs of corruption at least.

Fuck the rain.

Sounds of shivering irritated her nerves, at least that’s how she rationalized it to herself, and she reached, wrapping her arm around the grievously injured woman to pull her against her own body. She wasn’t cold; truthfully the rain was causing faint wisps of steam to  _ rise  _ from her, but she couldn’t say the same about the other. At her resistance she rolled her eyes, trying again. Succeeding this time in pulling the other woman into her lap she grunted, refusing to look at her. 

It helped keep the facade, after all.

“Fucking continue to hate me after this, I don’t care. This isn’t a good way to die.”

The gruffness went unanswered, but the sobs seemed to be dying off if only because of her infernal body temperature. It didn’t take too long before the Imperator turned her wounded head into her, pressing her face tightly against her shoulder now exposed thanks to her ruined breastplate. Her shivering eventually stopped, but that was only because she gave in to losing consciousness.

This was so stupid, having no problem vocalizing it since the person who could have called her out was not coherent. “This plan of yours was by far the stupidest you’ve come up with. You were lucky on the Moon, and reckless on Earth.” Really it was, having Terramancers devise a large canyon and driving Darkness from all points on the planet to that single point, only to have the planet itself destroy them in a catastrophic display. The War Machine lined the canyon’s mouth, under strict orders that nothing was to escape.

They ended up watching, silent specters and witnesses as lava boiled from deep within the ground, consuming the Darkness that hissed and raged, held fast by earthen restraints. One wave after another was destroyed in this fashion, the Imperator’s voice ringing out for the next group while the Geomancer directed her forces to the slaughter. The Scholar provided updates to how many groups were left, until they all silently watched the last turn to ash.

Directing the Terramancers to fill in the killing spot, the Imperator gave perhaps half a day’s rest before announcing that they would be leaving for Jupiter at once, completely skipping Mars without any mention.

Save for their first attack and one other small skirmish, they hadn’t lost anyone, which was … something, certainly. But why Jupiter; the Moon made sense, Earth, as much of a shithole as it was, made sense. But why progress to the outer planets when there were still inner ones not visited. The Scholar claimed Mercury was clean, but there was still Venus, not to mention her own home.

Going to Jupiter seemed unwise. After what happened, she felt she was right in such an assessment.

Glowering, here she was, sitting in the mud against a tree during a thunderstorm. With an infuriating woman who brought her peace for the first time since her mother had died, who risked her life and bore a permanent scar from it, for what.

Again the question came up and still she had no answer. It would be easier to say that logically, she was needed to keep the loyalty of the War Machine, as with her death they would hold no obligation to continue to fight for this suicide cause. It didn’t explain it though, focusing on the tidbits she could recall of the fight and to now. 

The impassioned cry given to divert attention away and to herself instead could not be faked. Treatment after; confirming she still lived, resetting her leg, then dragging her for as long as she did could be chalked up to logical concern and movement; there could be more Darkness near. It was better to find shelter and heal than be caught in the open.

Dispassionately she tore apart the other’s actions, looking for the reason behind why she did what she did. Compassion was not foreign, just something she did not show to nearly everyone. Was it out of concern perhaps, or practicality in the situation; any would be valid points.

It all  _ could  _ have been that, had the Imperator  _ not  _ said her name.

There were but a handful of people that dared say it, and even fewer who knew better to. For ages she had lived the projected image to the point it became her own personality, even when it wasn’t exactly her. Cruel and apathetic when she could be rather passionate about some things, the expectations of everyone else’s interpretation of her reputation left her closed off from everyone, save a select few.

Her father didn’t care, wanting only conquest. Rooks had known to a point; but he was dead. Phobos and Deimos  _ understood  _ but were far too cryptic for her to understand. And her mother… that all changed when she suddenly fell ill and passed away.

Her gaze turned to glance at the Imperator. Her features looked contorted in pain, tears drying to leave faint bluish streaks across what of her face could be seen. The blood looked like face paint gone wrong, and despite the situation or perhaps because of it, she smirked, though it lacked its normal sardonic qualities.

“You won’t like this decision when you wake.”

Too alert, she said nothing more, scanning the horizon instead. There was no point in keeping track of the time as it reminded her of her own discomfort. Despite her best intentions though her eyes fell closed, falling into a light doze. Sometime during it the rain lessened in its intensity, lingering as an annoying mist. Noise that she could not account for prompted her eyes to open with a grimace, feeling stiff now that the aches had the opportunity to settle in.

Not quite as dark now, the landscape was shrouded in a gray hue, prompting tricks to be played on the mind if stared at too long. Hearing the noise again she carefully raised her arm, wary of jostling the unconscious woman against her. A flame conjured and appeared in her open hand, blazing brightly.

“There! I see a light!”

She wanted to grimace but found it hard to do when she recognized the voices. A sigh instead was released, leaning back against the tree. Makoto, the Mercurian Scholar, and a cohort of her men came into view, looking none the worse for wear and if anything, just waterlogged.

“Ah ha, there you- what happened?” What was going to be a jab at her location instead changed to concern over her predicament, the two quickly approaching. 

She had to admit that this was a rather interesting way to be found. Before either could make a comment she took command of the situation. “The Imperator has been injured. Tell me there are more than just a single cohort with you.”

Makoto knelt by her, carefully picking the Imperator up like she was nothing. Limp, her body was easily malleable, allowing the Scholar an opportunity to check her vitals, about to undo the bandage around her face before she was stopped by a single word, “No.” The Mercurian accepted it but she didn’t look pleased by it, nodding instead to the Jovian; they looked rather chummy which was not what she wanted to see ever.

“Everyone made it, outside you two and five SigilRippers. We’ve been lookin’ fer you both for half a day.” Makoto supplied, standing up easily with the Imperator in her arms. 

Collecting her sword she pushed up to her feet, fully aware that she couldn’t hide anything with her helmet not on her face. Schooling her features to neutrality despite the panging aches she felt, she took the opportunity to rebelt her sword, an excuse to test the range of motion she still had with her broken collar bone. The losses were nominal; five SigilRippers were not easy to recover from but it could have been much worse.

The Imperator  _ was  _ the leader, in numerous regards. With her currently out for the time being, she had no problem assuming the mantle of leadership. Staying on Jupiter, much like being on the planet, was a mistake in her eyes, and this was the prime opportunity to correct it. Addressing the cohort who accompanied the Geomancer and Scholar, she knew the two of them would raise the most objection. “Inform the SigilRippers to create a portal to Bryzantiz. We leave at once.”

The men saluted, a group breaking away to deliver the instructions, a few directed to gather her wayward helmet and collect the pieces of her armor she had divested herself of. On perfect cue the Jovian and Mercurian shared a glance, though it was the Scholar who decided to voice the question. “Where is … Bryzantiz?”

“She’s tellin’ everyone to get ready to go to Mars. What game are you playin’ here Rei… the Imperator said nothin’ about going there.”

“The Imperator is currently unconscious, as I am certain you can attest to. Coming here was a mistake, and I will not subject the War Machine to this … waterlogged shitstorm.”

The Jovian bristled at the mention of what she thought of the planet, but seemed to remember her arms were currently busy. It wasn’t nice; it actually was sparking the fires of envy within her that the blonde was not against  _ her  _ own  _ body  _ but somethings required sacrifices to be made to see causes advanced. “You’re a real work of shit Rei. If the Imperator brought us here, she had a reason for it. Not for you to undermine it.”

“How bad is her injury…?” Perhaps to break up the beginning of another display of superiority between them the Scholar interjected with a question.

To all intents and purposes, she shrugged it off, albeit failing miserably at it. Neither would call her own it, at least, they would not if they were  _ wise.  _ “She has lost her eye.”

“WHAT?!” Who actually said it… did it truly matter? Both looked at the woman who surprisingly did not rouse from such noise, baleful looks passed in her direction before they left towards the forces that would be sending them back to Mars. It was effective, at the least, to get them moving instead of questioning her decision.

Mars was the last place she wanted to go, especially when word would quickly reach the King’s ear of her arrival and the state of the War Machine. Neither of them realized that of course, likely believing this was all according to whatever  _ sick  _ and  _ twisted  _ plans she had. The truth was she held great esteem for her Medicus, and if anyone could patch the Imperator up, it would be him.

Gods knew, at the least, she was owed such for saving her life. Her health was key towards her own goals, even if the playing field kept introducing new pieces and rules.


	15. Hall of Broken Vows

“Ah! My daughter, the _great_ Premier of Mars has returned. With her tail between her legs.”

To say she was surprised that this was how their reunion would all go down would be a lie. It was always only a matter of time before _he_ would all but _demand_ her presence. This time at least, she had the opportunity to change her clothes and visit her Medicus before directing him on, before she was caught.

Left with little choice, and bereft of her helmet she desired to hide behind in an effort to preserve her mental strength, she stood as the two GhostHexers created their projection. At least _he_ wasn’t _here,_ but that was a trifling thing to hold in esteem. Her eyes picked out the details beyond his visage and stature; the perpetually bloody spear with two tusks framing it to either side said it was the throne room. If there was any doubt, then the single throne would assuage it completely. She had been a young girl when her mother passed, but she still remembered the day when he finally removed hers.

“Hardly so.” The less words she said the better, as far as she was concerned.

“Is that so. Tell me then, what do _you_ call it when you arrive with a mere _fraction_ of the forces you left with.” It could have almost been a question save it never was, his eyebrows drew in together, forming a pronounced line on his brow as he waited for a reply. He gave the appearance of someone who cared, but she knew no answer would be sufficient enough.

“A resupply necessity. We are ill-equipped on Jupiter.”

“You lost mere SigilRippers, not soldiers there. This is more than just some _restocking, logistical_ issue.”

She said nothing, piecing together how it was he knew what he did. He knew she had not taken losses on the waterlogged shitstorm planet, and was aware that her losses came before. Forcing herself to keep a neutral face, she wished for her helmet more than anything, if just to keep her rage from being known.

Someone was _spying_ on _her._

At her lack of response he continued on, “Is your mouth incapable of speech now, or is it only suited for this _Imperator’s_ pussy. You’ve lost _twice_ to this woman; is her sex so enchanting it _kills_ your senses.” He laughed, a barking sort of cruel sound. Slipping past her rage, she swore she heard another voice joining in but found it impossible to concentrate on it. “The great Premier of Mars! Brought low by some fucking whore and her magical cunt!”

Keeping her mouth shut was no longer an option. Not anymore. _“She saved my life!”_ While hardly wise to let that slip, her rage said otherwise, drowning out the copious voices clamoring for maliciousness.

“It sounds like she is enthralled, Great King.”

A new voice, feeling fire seconds away from forming at her fingertips. This was not a private conversation between herself and her father; he had _witnesses_ present. People who were _listening._ She recognized this man despite the blue outline of astral projection. The fucking cur had been a thorn in her side for as long as she could remember, always trying to undermine her authority despite her birthrite, crystal, and skill. Now he was privy to the conversation at hand.

“Ha! Ha ha ha! You are! I will personally see to this _Imperator_ that ensorcelled you and deal with her myself should she fail to best _me.”_

There were numerous issues between the Imperator and herself, their _relationship_ built upon mutual distrust and dislike for one another. Even necessity was barely enough to keep things going, stubbornness breeding rage and frustration. 

This though; was this even something she could _allow_ in the first place? She grudgingly admitted her defeat if only for the sake of answers she desired above anything else. Answers and that calmness that silenced the furor burning within her.

“Why is he here.” Deflection was not her proudest skill; truthfully she was horrible at the sheer notion, but she would get her answers one way or another.

The King merely laughed, waving a projected hand as though it was of no concern to anyone. He still provided an answer though, which was surprising. “I have let you run amok in your sexuality in deference to your mother. Your losses have forced my hand to action. I need a _worthy_ heir, one not _clouded_ nor _enthralled_ by some woman’s _charms._ I will deal with your little Imperator problem, and you shall marry Vanothos and produce me an heir worthy of the War Machine.”

Vanothos was a lackey who supervised the wounded and reserves of the War Machine, a position that wasn’t even warranted in the first place. Few ever wished to be under his command, often ignoring debilitating injury just to avoid the man completely. A sniveling dog was all she could ever account him to, a bootlicker who kissed the right person’s ass; her father’s apparently now, to get to where he was. In single combat she could humilate him; she had before when he had a stupid idea to insert himself into her life.

“What?!” Surprise allowed that reaction out, feeling her eyes go wide.

“If.” He laughed again, “I do enjoy the theatrics. If your little Imperator can best me, then your coupling with Vanothos will be nulled and this will not be brought up again. Should she fail and fail she _will,_ it is her life and you shall welcome him to your bed without your little tricks until you are with child.”

Darkness fucking take her. It was hard to breathe, feeling nothing but fire flare and course through her veins. That sound came again, the pounding of war drums in her ears, hands clenching tightly against themselves that her nails left crescent shaped cuts to her palm. Blood welled as liquid fire.

“Oh and Rei, do not try to leave. I _know_ who is loyal to me and who is not. Knowledge _I_ have, not _you.”_

Another laugh and the projection ended. She said nothing, standing close to stock still save for the small trembles. Her gaze rose slowly, refocusing in its murderous rage. From behind the skulls the GhostHexers wore, she found, smirks.

They knew.

Her hand yanked her sword free of its scabbard, swinging to slice and bury itself in the male before he could react. Without missing a beat her fingers rose, digging into the eyes and mouth of the other. It did not matter how her collarbone ached, vengeance _would_ be hers. 

Snarling, she pressed on, feeling the woman’s eyes squish and the roof of the mouth give way under the nature of her hand, ignoring the thrashing as limbs flailed against her. A breath later and she screamed, igniting her hand to burn away the woman until all she held was a scattering of ash.

* * *

A soft knock at the door drew her attention from where it was resting on the unconscious Imperator. The Premier’s Medicus had left but minutes ago, an ancient man who said not a word but seemed to radiate a sense of tranquility that neither her nor Makoto put up much obstacle to his work. With powders and salves, he treated the long raking gash down her face, gently pressing flesh back together to minimize scarring. Nothing could be done about her eye; it was gone after all, merely treating the wound to disinfect and prevent infection from occurring. Bound by a sling, her left arm was immobilized against her body, dislocated if the Medicus’ gentle fingers were any indication.

The Imperator was a mess. There were also the numerous cuts and scrapes she gained from the whole ordeal, each carefully treated and bandaged.

The Medicus never said a word, merely working as both of them tried not to hover and be in the way. When he was done he merely unfolded a blanket, draping it over her prone body before bowing. The red scarf that had been tied around her head as an improvised bandage he left carefully folded on the pillow before collecting his things and taking his leave.

She had questioned Makoto if she knew what it was, and at her answer was the knock on the door. Exchanging a look she answered, “Enter…?”

Two women walked in on soft soled boots, a multitude of charms and feathers hanging from shirt hems and their belts. At first she thought they were twins to the Premier; they certainly had an air of mysteriousness about them, but their eyes were blue and rather … kind … if she had to put a word to it, in comparison to the Premier’s own shade of amethyst.

They spoke in successive tandem, confusing her until she didn’t know which one had spoken what part. Their voices were lyrical, melodious in nature, soothing what already felt like a chaotic occasion. 

“May we come in?” One said, followed by the other, “We shall not be long.”

“Uhm … al-alright.” It had been ages since a Martian actually posed a question, much less asked for anything. It was throwing her off guard.

They stepped further inside, looks of sadness coming to life on their ageless faces. To either side of the bed they went, kneeling to be closer to the unconscious blonde. “This is bad.” 

“Very bad.” Came the almost parroting reply.

“We should have prevented this.”

“Ya both act like you know ‘er.” It wasn’t accusatory, but the Jovian brought up a good point.

“She is our mother.” And, “Of course we know who she is.”

“What? Yer mother? No offense but I don’t think she’s that _old_ to give birth to you two!”

“No no. You misunderstand.”

“Her spirit, that is what we mean.”

“It is ageless, like us.”

“She is our creator. We know who she is, no matter the form she assumes now.”

She exchanged a look with Makoto, relieved that it came back as a mirror to her own lack of understanding. The first to admit that her mythology involving planets outside of Mercury was lacking, it wasn’t like she put a lot of stock into old stories anyway. The few facts they had been built upon were lost among fanciful, boasting stories of inconceivable and unbelievable grandeur. Some things were interesting to be sure, but neither did she want to know of every particular nuance. Perhaps she should have put more stock into reading such esoteric things, but there was simply _too_ much to do as it were.

At their blank looks the two women exchanged one of their own. “I am Phobos.”

It was immediately followed by, “I am Deimos.” There was no likely chance she would be able to tell the other apart had they been standing side by side. There was no differing inflection in their voices, no mannerisms or nuances that she could pick out.

The names of Mars’ twin moons meant little to her, nor people who would name themselves after them. Both exchanged a look again, before looking back to the blonde. They were reverent when they touched her face, carefully following her forehead and smoothing back vibrant blonde hair. Either left a raven’s feather across her immobilized hand before rising back to their feet.

“The Medicus has done well.” She thought it was Deimos who spoke, but for all she knew it was Phobos. It wasn’t like they changed positions of where they stood, they were just that _interchangeable._

“He didn’t say anything. Is there anything that we need to do? Change her bandages, anything like that?”

“He is an old soul.”

“An ancient soul.”

“He will not speak.”

“What, does he only understand Martian or somethin’? We tried askin’ him questions but he just ignored us. He understood what we were sayin’ though, with it all bein’ in Common.”

One of them shook their heads, at this point she gave up figuring out which one it was. “He cannot speak, as much as he would want to.”

“The King cut out his tongue when he failed to heal his wife.”

The mood in the room seemed to deflate quickly. As much as she should not be surprised at such brutality, it seemed so wasteful to harm someone, to maim them, for something that was likely out of their control. The passing of the Martian Queen was shrouded in mystery as it were, what little information that had been gleaned prior to the War Machine’s rise to dominating power was contradictory. Some sources said she died in childbirth, others that she contracted an incurable disease. Still others said she died fighting any number of things; dragons were the most popular but so were boars and humans, especially rebellious ones.

Those who knew the real reason were tightlipped on it, refusing to even entertain her broaching of such a subject. She had tried questioning a few of the more approachable soldiers only to get turned away at every opportunity. Thankfully none had drawn a weapon but a few came close, and all of them she knew to stay away from for the rest of the time she might be around them.

“You… you mentioned he is an old soul.” She found herself saying, though to what point she had no idea.

“An ancient soul.”

“Not from here.”

“Not of this system. You would call it the Pillars of Creation.”

She had heard of intersystem travel of course, but to involve different systems? Thoughts of questioning him fell by the wayside with the knowledge he could not speak. But write perhaps? It was worth getting her hopes up over, despite intentions of tempering them from known disappointment.

The two shared a look between them, then one to the door. Silently something passed between them again before they looked back to them. “You should find rest while you can.”

“Why, is somethin’ gonna happen?”

“Something will always happen.” Neither said more beyond that, looking again at the Imperator before silently making their way out.

“What was that about? Do you know who they are?”

“Nah, I don’t. But they seem ta know a lot, and it makes sense. Should prolly get some rest while we can, no tellin’ just what is gonna happen as it is.” The Jovian paused, looking at the Imperator then back to her. “Ya know who she is, dontcha?”

It was being put on the spot, but not as dangerous if it was the absent Premier interrogating her. She collected her pack, leaving the Imperator’s where it leaned against a wall. “I have my suspicions, but out of deference…” she trailed off, hoping that the inquiry would pass.

Makoto just gave a grunt, her pack collected in addition to that huge axe of hers. “Do ya think she’ll tell me who she is? I ain’t gonna go tell Rei if that’s your worry, but I respect yer decision. Contrary to popular belief, we only work with them out of survival. Push comes ta shove we aren’t gonna out up much of a stoppin’ point if they decide to attack us.”

Despite her tiredness, she felt herself softly smiling. “I think she would, when she’s ready.”

* * *

Her hand closed the door softly behind her, setting the latch that was ingenious Martian design and missed by foreigners. Not that there were ever many to miss it, but it was something more at the least.

Thoughts of spies and betrayal plagued her thoughts as she stepped further into the room, the limp mostly ignored. Picking out the sole occupant she waited a moment; hearing no further noise she proceeded further within. Her gaze beheld the woman, picking out the bandages she had been left in, with the addition to the two feathers across her hand. That was curious, hardly expecting that Phobos and Deimos would see _her first_ and _foremost,_ instead of seeking herself out.

For that matter, that they even saw to the woman was concerning in its own right, and right now she did not need additional ones to join in.

The Imperator had beaten her by _trickery_ the first time, and sheer skill to bring it to a draw the second. Her fighting style was unconventional, well aware of the sparring she did against a few of her men. At this point though, any of them could be the turncoat spy and already reported just _how_ she fought.

In perfect health she might stand a chance, but lacking an eye and apparently some sort of injury to her arm indicated she would be at a disadvantage. Unless she held another spell contained in her Saturn made rod, her chances of winning now were quite nil.

She stood watching for long moments, making no further movement towards staying or leaving. The calmness returned, clarity in the face of chaos. This was a choice she would have to make, the largest gamble there was to date. Sometimes she would take council on such impacting decisions but the choices were rather limited even if she could bring herself to ask.

Her hand strayed to her sword; not that it brought her comfort but it was something she could physically grasp. A tangible object when faced by incorporeal specters. Killing her was not an option. Oh sure it certainly still _was_ but would gain her nothing in the process. It could even make it worse, completely clearing the way. She may as well just strip her clothing off and wait for Vanothos to fuck up the concept of even engaging in sex.

Staying here was not an option either; the palace was far enough away but still far too close for her liking. Knowing the lengths he could be driven to, he was already on his way, affording her merely hours to make a decision and see it through. It would take him days to arrive but she never gave an enemy the luxury of time.

An enemy… was that what he was now? He had been her father but for a short period of time, right up until her mother passed. Then he became only the King to her, a driving taskmaster who was impossible to please. His pact with the Darkness had fucked up so much, rendering it impossible for her to say who actually spoke, him or them.

The Imperator grimaced, her free hand clenching to a fist. No move was made towards it relaxing. At first she did nothing; it could merely be a bad dream or reaction to whatever her Medicus had given for treatment. As the thrashings began though, a leg kicking the bedding, she came closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Bedside comfort was something she didn’t do. This was out of her realm, but the risk of further action and injury spurred her to do _something._ Placing a hand on her shoulder she was rewarded with a fist thrown in her direction, her eye opening to wild fury and no awareness of her surroundings. Catching the fist she felt her features frown, “Stop. No harm will come to you here.”

Why frown? Did she expect the Imperator to just _know_ where she was and what transpired? Why proclaim no harm would come to her?

Darkness take her the _fuck_ was _wrong_ with her?

A growl was her response, the Imperator’s left arm struggling past the sling to attack. Getting nowhere, and with strength and energy born of desperation, the blonde sat up, trying to pull her captured hand away. An awkward but still effective knee to her kidney forced her to let go, the fist coming back to flail against her body. Few of the blows actually landed and those that did were weak, lacking conviction and strength to do more.

Not letting it stop her, she became renewed to the fight, socking her again to land a hit just below her already broken collar bone. This was not going to do, grabbing the woman to hold her tightly against her own body. A few more blows came, awkward taps before the rush of energy left her. Feeling her slump in her grasp she tried to lay her back down and place distance between them.

It was for naught, a tight hold leveraged to her jacket refused to let go. Barely she felt the blonde’s forehead press to her shoulder, her back rising and falling slowly with each breath. It was soft though shaky, uncertain and catching. She felt herself staring, at a loss and confused about what she _should_ do versus what she might _actually_ do.

It took a few minutes for her to realize that her hand was absently stroking along the Imperator’s back, that her fingers trailed through ends of spun gold that felt soft to the touch. It took her longer to realize that she was being looked at in return, devoid of most emotions save for fear.

She wondered for a moment if the woman was broken.

Not a sound passed between them, the blonde’s gaze dropping to stare unfocused at her constrained arm. Everything felt like a mess, needing air and space to sort the tangle out she dropped her arms, preparing to stand.

“You’re so warm.” It was a bare whisper, the blonde’s hand not releasing its hold to her attire.

What was she supposed to say, much less do, in response to _that?_

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” She continued, afforded a concealed view of her face didn’t mean she missed the tear that fell. “I couldn’t let you die though,” her voice was thick, anything could be the combination of why. The inflection was there, slashing through her defenses like they were nonexistent. 

“You saved my life.” Unbidden, but not exactly unwelcomed she heard herself speak.

A sniffle and her jacket was released, hand passing under her eye before a knuckle dug in to try and stop her silent crying. Attempting to reach with her left hand only brought another pathetically concealed sob.

The frown this time was the same as the one given earlier, drawing the woman back against her before plucking the blanket to tuck around her. Feeling like she should say something, really _anything_ would be sufficient the words didn’t form. It was awkward to sit how she was, silently glad her sword was not digging into her side but it was not how she wished to be sitting either. A mind was given to move, to at least readjust, until she felt the Imperator fall fast asleep against her.

Fuck. 

She released a kept breath; a sigh in reality, frowning again or perhaps it was the same one. This was. This was. The words wouldn’t come, refusing to form as thoughts. Unexpected? It seemed lackluster. Unwanted? A rather bold faced lie. Unanticipated? The same as unexpected.

The peace she felt though, the silencing of whispers always hounding for malevolent actions. It wasn’t something that could be denied. Just like staying here; a foolish venture she came to the conclusion of.

Plans began to form in her mind; it wasn’t like there was anything else to do. There would be a certain amount of _trust_ involved, but it would be easily obtained by preying on the already obvious distrust and dislike both Scholar and Geomancer had for her. The Imperator would be the perfect piece in the whole scheme; they both followed her rule without question and her well-being would be the reason they would agree.

Not _every_ soldier was loyal to the King instead of her, and while numbers may be low, even a cohort was better than nothing. It would require discretion; she wished Rooks had _not_ perished but she could not control time, if just for the fact he knew as well as she did who to talk to.

It would speed up the process, a process she could not start until the Imperator woke, or either of _them_ came to check. 

A plan formed set her further at ease, feeling the tension leave her body. She even felt a thin smirk play across her features, establishing how she would be freed of the King’s degrading rule for the first time in her life.

“Now this next decision, you may actually approve of Imperator.” It didn’t matter the woman couldn’t hear her, closing her eyes to lightly doze until it could all be set to motion.


	16. Dream of the Holy Land

She hadn’t thought she’d ever wake on Mars, and despite her wishes for knowledge she put off the very notion of this reality actually occurring like it was. Yet here it was, here she was, but the excitement it should have held was not there. Far too much uncertainty lingered in place of what should have been. Each time she looked at the scanner, for instance, a single pulse of red resonated across the device before falling silent. It didn’t matter how many times she tried it, how many times she flipped it on and off, it still gave the same ominous warning that she couldn’t decipher.

Her gaze went to it again even as she sat up, stretching out limbs from her unrestful position. Flicking the switch it was still the same, a flash of red and nothing more.

Whatever it was, it did not bode well.

Dropping the scanner she pushed up to her feet, stepping around the softly snoring body of the Geomancer a few feet away. Ensuring she did not trip over her great axe leaning against the wall by the door, she pushed it open to step out.

The building was small, three rooms of which, two were meant for occupation. She debated a moment on thoughts of hygiene before shrugging it off, making her way down the small hall towards where the Imperator hopefully rested.

What her eyes beheld was not what she expected.

Much like how they were found on Jupiter, either was leaning into the other. Over the blanketed form of the Imperator though she found the loose arm of the Premier. Both were asleep, the Premier looking noticeably awkward in her sleep due to how she was sitting on the bed. It incited a sense of malicious glee to see it, before the emotion was shoved down.

She cleared her throat, almost wishing she had dressed more for the occasion instead of a shirt and shorts, but the weather had dictated the attire and so she went with it. 

Amethyst eyes opened to regard her, narrowing in scrutiny before dismissing her outright. It took the Premier but moments, a simple breathing cycle, to set the tone. “What.” It was not a question, despite the word choice. Issued on a low voice, the woman made no move to rise, much less to shift. 

“What are you doing, why are you here? She needs, _deserves,_ rest.”

“Which she is getting if you would be so astute.”

Was it her, or did she detect traces of possessiveness within the Martian’s voice? Doubting it and blaming it instead on the conditions she pressed on. “Sitting up is not conducive to a decent night’s rest.” She barely finished speaking before words were issued, snapping at her heels.

“She was having a nightmare.”

So matter of fact, so simply stated. _‘She was having a nightmare and I wanted to offer comfort out of any number of reasons,’_ her mind filled in for her. _‘Because I am a dumbass who doesn’t realize we are in this mess because of my fucking attitude. I’m doing this as a single act so you will let me get away with whatever I want, like being here where I have the advantage.’_

Given the chance, her thoughts exploded.

“I never would have guessed that the Great Premier of the Martian War Machine even knew what kindness was.”

It was _wrong_ to sink to her level but it felt good, justifiable, to snap back if just for the sake of the injured woman who fought to keep their progress moving forward.

What she was not expecting was the flash of remorse that flickered across the Premier’s gaze. Had she not been looking directly at her she would have missed it. It knocked some of the self-righteousness from her sails, looking to the Imperator for a moment then back again. “Under your fiery, bitchy demeanor is an actual _decent_ person.”

The Martian snorted, her arm almost tightening around the body but she played it off. “I cannot move her on my own.” Deflecting the conversation she looked at her expectantly.

Releasing a sigh she strode forward, carefully moving the bundled woman back down to her side as her back was not an option for how she was already sleeping. She didn’t wake, at the least, her expression remained the same as it had been the last she saw of it. Save for a few new tracks of dried tears, it was still the highly troubled face of before.

The Premier rose with a grimace, a few steps taken around the small room as her hands resettled her sword belt. Belatedly she recalled the compound fracture and broken collar bone, but neither seemed to bother her as much.

Of course. She had her Crystal so injuries were almost trivial while the Imperator, a mere _mortal_ who risked her life like she did not want it any longer suffered.

Turning back to face her the Premier looked to the curled up but still asleep Imperator. Not a single emotion passed that was evident to her gaze. The Martian looked over at her after a moment, eyes narrowing slightly before she walked to the door, catching some hidden latch that went unnoticed. It was flippantly stated, “Don’t wander too far,” before she left, the door shut softly behind.

All she felt like doing was sighing, a look cast in the sleeping woman’s direction before walking to take a perch by her. She hadn’t gotten a good look on Jupiter, the rain and accompanying mist had cast a distortion, and to be honest there was more concern towards the fact she wasn’t moving than there was in sating her curiosity.

Freed of concealing veils, outside of the bandage across her missing eye, she was afforded a better look at the mysterious Imperator. It confirmed what she suspected; Minako, the Prefect of Venus _was_ the Imperator and leading the War Machine on this desperate crusade. The soft light that made its way inside showcased other marks, notably scarring by her mouth.

A frown as she leaned in closer, puzzling out the shape before concluding it was brought on by a backhanded blow. Something had pierced and torn the skin and was never treated. Judging by the slight conclave to her cheek, teeth were missing. Not that she would open her mouth to check, but she felt confident in her guess.

Her hands were too bandaged from the fight, and she was willing to bet het computer that the Venusian bore more scars than just on her face.

To say she was shocked would be barely scratching the surface. The System knew that Venusians were beautiful, sometimes in that ethereal, otherworldly manner. Light, delicate, and sensual were all apt words of description for them.

And now.

Well now she was scarred and a mess.

The woman remained asleep, half curled into a ball. It was probably the longest she had gone with sleep since she ever met her. Sighing again she rose to her feet; at the least she could see to herself and come back. The Geomancer might be awake by then, and perhaps between the two of them, they could come up with a plan. Contacting the Queen right now was not an option; without a strong satellite uplink her computer couldn’t transmit, and that was even assuming the Moon still had facilities like that. She hadn’t asked the little bit of time she was there and now regretted it.

It was instead left to the Geomancer and herself, and hopefully a soon to be coherent Imperator.

* * *

_It had to be another dream,_ the detached part of her mind claimed, _for this did not seem like the reality she knew. Yet she could not call it false, for far too much of it seemed both right and something she remembered. The soft cackle of a fire burning close by popped and whined as the wood it consumed held pockets of dried sap. The fire she paid attention to only thanks to her attunement to such an element, but it was a detached sort of acknowledgement._

_She would prefer her attention be solely on the woman before her, but part of her knew, recalling talks that seemed like ages ago with her amidst post coital afterglows and tangled limbs that her lover understood she just could_ not _shut that part of her connection down, no matter how much she might_ want _to. It was always understanding with the blonde haired woman who shone like the sun, even if she teased her mercilessly for not paying full attention to her._

_In all reality it always worked in her favor, for when they had their moments, when they could meet free of obstructing duty and commitment, it was always so encompassing. She forgot the bloodshed, the wars, the fighting. She forgot the pain, the aches, and troubled thoughts that consumed her mind and psyche otherwise._

_Something soft was at her back, caressing the back of her calves, her thighs, with each noticeable shift her body gave. Anticipation was not her strong suit; despite her abilities to plan when her soulmate wanted to tease her, she was too damnably effective. The soft fur she laid out on brushed against her arms and hands, hands that she refused to grasp the material with just yet. They wanted to touch sun kissed skin, wanted to caress and follow lines on her body, to feel reactions brought on by not only her presence but of her actions as well._

_Yet she was not afforded such boons, almost growling when the woman came into view. Another tease; sometimes she had been blindfolded, other times restrained with simplistic leather cuffs or soft fabric from her home world. This though was not like those times, she could_ see _and she could_ touch, _if her lover would just come closer._

_But it was still a tease. Thin bits of lace adorned her shoulders, meeting material that was translucent especially in the fire light. It showcased skin she knew very well yet could never get enough of. Simple stitching connected to the top, lined perfectly to nipples already perked and hardened. Two thin stitch lines ran along the sides of the material, following an imaginary line from under her arms to her hip bone. Those thin bits of lace were entirely unnecessary in her mind as far as she was concerned, suspecting that her breasts alone could have held the garment up and in place. It fell to just below her waist, seemingly dancing with her movements. That was it, just that scrap of material but how it_ inflamed _her so._

_A throaty giggle and her lover was at last astride her, warm,_ hot, _her own desire evident as she straddled her hips. Liquid fire was all she could compare it to, save she burned much hotter while orgasming. This though told her all she could ever want to know, ever_ need _to know. Her own hands instantly went to her hips, feeling smooth skin through calloused hands._

_Like they were meant for one another it was the perfect fit, sitting up as the blonde’s arms slipped around her neck. The material teased her own skin, a breath of something cool like a breeze to her own already hot body. “So impatient Mars… you’re always in a rush.” She teased, a voice akin to a melody in her ears._

_“I always want to see you, even if you insist on tormenting me so.” She heard herself reply, the inflections the same even if she could not recall ever saying such a thing._

_A smile. It felt_ cheap _to liken it to the sun but she did. Dazzling and bright, warmth surrounded her that was not of fire’s origin, or a pelt, or a blanket. It was neither her own orgasm nor her golden haired lover. Something more, her gift perhaps, likely… her heart beat stronger, her body relaxing even as arousal held her firmly. “You are mine and I am yours. No matter the distance or lives, we’ll always be together….”_

The sound of the damnable Scholar clearing her throat had drawn her awake. For how long she dozed, she couldn’t recall, her mind hazy. It was like the fever dream she had on Jupiter, not as stimulating perhaps but this one felt more … real, if she had to label it somehow. The fantasy brought on by fever felt every bit the same, but this one.

This one she didn’t know. It felt like it _had_ happened, while the other was a premonition of what _would_ happen.

The outside did nothing to clear her thoughts: rather reinforcing that _things_ were happening that would impact her life for the rest of it that existed. She’d be damned if she was going to be a glorified broodmare for that fucking cur, much less do what the King wanted. Feeling rage retake the otherwise _calmness_ that had surrounded her she stalked forward, her mind made up over who to talk to versus those that would give it all away.

Only to stop a handful of steps at the arrival of Phobos and Deimos.

_They_ had attended to the woman. _They_ had seen to, perhaps even _spoke_ to her, before appearing to _her._ It was an additional thing to weigh on her when she would rather close her eyes again if dreams were so favorable. Preparing to lash out in regard to any number of things she was denied such an opportunity when they spoke instead.

“The King will arrive in but hours, five perhaps. They are currently in Sabaea, near Xeoaso.”

It didn’t matter to her which one spoke, as it was dire news. She anticipated that she had days, not mere _hours_ to do everything required to escape this particular fate and instead, the King had been driven to such extremes to cross such distances. Or perhaps he employed a few of the SigilRippers that were kept in reserve. It was the only logical explanation for _how_ he was accomplishing the inconceivable nature of it. It meant he was beyond serious in seeing it accomplished, and she’d be damned if his plans came to fruition before her own did. 

Fuming at them would have to wait, changing her mind. It was not self serving to look out for herself first, for at least she could count on her own actions before those of any other. With any luck the armorer was still under her sway. If not, she had a backup of sorts, if she even wanted to go that particular route.

She paid no mind to the two as they followed in her steps, a bit too lost to conflicting thoughts of her plans and the dream she had been woken from. Stopping again she turned back to look at them. Was it worth to gamble on their aid, or were they pawns of the King as well? There was no time she could recall that they ever offered anything to the man, else perhaps she would have realized how … _significant_ their presence was sooner.

“Tell them to be ready to depart in an hour. When they question the rush, inform them it is either that or prepare to be interrogated by the Martian King. Should they still stall, I am certain you can provide examples of considered atrocities.” They were ageless, she knew that just from simply growing up. Their features never changed therefore it was easy to accept. It stood to reason then that they knew far more than she.

This would buy her time that she did not need to spend cutting down arguments, though she would still have them. Xeoaso was not _that_ far away and instinct told her he was already traveling hard. 

“Pack your things as well. There is much to be discussed.” Leaving with that, she resumed her walk, movements calculated to continue her grandiose plans of usurping the conquest against her.

The first stop was to her quarters, a place not often visited as she was rare to be here in the first place. She did not live in the Palace, or rather she hadn’t for close to ten years. As near as the quick glance was that she gave it no one had disturbed a single thing. Not that there was much to disrupt; she lived in a tent for the most part as it was. With a need to stay mobile, material things she possessed that were not practical were quite few and far between.

Withdrawing the spare pack from the dark walnut wardrobe, already folded and rolled clothing was placed within. Effectively she packed, stashing away the valuables she collected amid her clothing. Gems and jewels, coins minted of precious metals. Things that she could barter or purchase with. While one place might not accept coins of another foreign land, the metal content alone would find it acceptable.

Buckling straps closed she set it by the door, collecting a spare pair of gauntlets to draw on. Another belt offset by three daggers was belted around her waist next, before gathering her spare cloak. Tied to her pack, another look was given to what was left. Merely her bed she rarely found reason to be in and clothes she couldn’t afford to take, she opted for her jacket. Unadorned at first glance the quality is what gave it away, double stitched it buttoned at an angle just below her collarbone, tails existing to mid thigh. A closed collar that came midway up her neck, it was suitable for any engagement, plus she could move in it, a fact proven as more than one _ceremony_ involved killing.

There was nothing left to collect. The King had ensured nearly all material things she had grown up with had been destroyed. Memories of her mother were all she kept, outside of the red scarf that she had tied around the Imperator’s wounded head. She still did not understand _why_ she had, just that she _did,_ and for now it would need to be enough.

She collected her pack and cloak without a second look behind her, stopping at the Medicus’ residence to not find him present. A mental curse at that; he did not deserve to die once the King arrived and he would. The man thought him dead, to see him alive would incite him further.

Phobos, or maybe it was Deimos; fuck if she knew, approached. Her pack was taken without preamble, “Phobos is talking to both the Scholar and Geomancer.” That confirmed that at least. “The Medicus is not here.”

No shit. “Tell him to meet me once he is found.” She left it at that, ensuring that Deimos would see to her things meant it would be far easier to see to the next step. Across the open plazas she walked, dismissive salutes to not stir suspicions. He may have eyes everywhere, but she knew of at least a few not under his sway.

One such individual she was coming up on as he stood outside conversing with his colleague. SigilRippers were always distinct; despite wearing armor and carrying arms as the rest of the War Machine, their clothing lent more towards battle robes and their weapons were simplistic and easier to use. Catching sight of her they stopped their words, looking to her rather expectantly.

This could bode well or not at all.

“Geoff. Banix.” Addressing them first she waved away their salutes. “Who has your loyalty.”

They did glance at each other for a split second; it didn’t mean it was favorable to her one way or the other. “You, Premier.” Banix answered first, Geoff saying close to the same.

“And if I was to call upon that loyalty.”

“You’ve been more than fair to us, Premier, to many of us.”

“Yet not all of you.” It was as much of a statement despite it being a question. She needed confirmation.

“There’s … some that believe you could have done things differently. A number of things, for that matter. Many are not … content … that a foreign is issuing orders. They barely tolerate it as you yourself do and that our dead were allowed back here instead of Earth.” Geoff chose his words carefully but the volumes of what he did not say could not be denied. It was what she was looking for, and she highly doubted either would lie, not when they knew what she was capable of.

Or so she could hope.

Banix supplied the rest, “If they had it their way, they would rather follow the King than this excursion we are embarking upon.”

Considering their words she gave a slow nod. “And the two of you.”

“Like Geoff said, you’ve always been fair. I serve under you, Premier.” The other nodded his agreement, saying nothing.

It was better than she could have imagined, at least she had two competent SigilRippers. “Find anyone as convicted as you within your ranks, be here in under an hour.”

Another look was shared between them, one she understood. They wanted to know where they were going, what was necessary, yet held to concepts of not questioning why. “Phobos or Deimos will explain more when you arrive. Raise no suspicion to your cause; there are too many eyes as it is.”

They _accepted_ that, leaving to find more like minded comrades. It went much the same for the rest of the War Machine, picking out those she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she commanded their loyalty. Any she could not account for, or was not fully vouched for, she ignored. They would be too dangerous despite their numbers they could provide, and their risk of starting a counter mutiny on her was too great.

It was still a reckless plan.

Her commitment did not waver, returning to the meeting point where Geoff, Banix, and perhaps a dozen more SigilRippers awaited. It was complemented by almost a full Regiment, lacking only eight to make it so. A mere one hundred and fourteen capable people amid a hundred thousand.

Internally she scowled, frustration rising but held at bay to be used later. The men were organized, formed into loose ranks that would draw attention from others yet it could not be helped. Martians were not known for their subtlety, no matter how helpful it would have been right now. Someone was reporting this she knew, ticking down the time remaining to her.

Her eyes picked out the group of Terramancers that came with them, perhaps seventy strong. Between those left on Earth’s moon and those lost in battle, they milled about in loose groups and in ways her soldiers could not. It confirmed that either Phobos or Deimos had conferred with the Geomancer, and that whatever arguments they could come up with were handled or swept aside.

She still did not see either, much less the wounded Imperator. Part of her wanted to frown; time was slipping away as it were. The _damnable_ woman _had_ to be _here,_ to say she was instrumental to this even working was an understatement. If she absolutely _had_ to she would bodily carry the damn blonde herself.

She ignored the delightful thoughts that came with such a threat.

The decision was taken out of her hands at the arrival of Scholar and Geomancer, and a rather slow moving, scowling Imperator. Though scowling would be fitting for anyone with a freshly gained wound that ran the length of their face. Certainly _she’d_ scowl if afforded such an injury; why would it be any different that the other would not?

Using a spear to steady her, her pack was in the possession of the Scholar. Though bandaged, someone had wrapped the red scarf back over the dressings, the color contrasting with her hair that had been done in braids.

She found herself staring, forgetting her lack of helmet that would have hidden such things. Somewhere in her mind she was certain that she looked familiar, like she had seen her _somewhere_ before. Perhaps though it was in conflict with the dream she just had; the woman who called her Mars was blonde of hair after all.

Her lack of awareness left her open for assault, quickly blinking to rebuild her defenses as the Imperator stopped in front of her. Despite her injuries, or perhaps _because_ of them, she still held her authority that waxed and waned much like the twin moons of Mars. Lacking though her shrouding clothing left the woman exposed to what her mere presence did to her.

It did nothing to hide the press of her lips, how they tightened with almost _feigned_ displeasure over the situation.

What she would have given to know why she looked so _damn familiar._

“Normally trooping colors is done with more than a single regiment, so this must be the best the War Machine has to offer or both of them talking about some asinine plan is what’s really going on.” She spoke directly, hand tight on the spear. It was doubtful that it was going to be used as a weapon but rather a compensation to the blow her depth perception took.

“I’m certain even _you_ have heard of the King and his actions.”

“Oh I know, like father like daughter. What does that have to do with this?”

“If you are so well versed then perhaps even you would have a plan for what to do at his arrival. Unless that is, you think you’re strong enough to best _him_ in a fight. Your _tricks_ may have worked against me but they will not avail you against him.”

Oh how delightful it was, watching as her lips pressed together, as she swallowed. The side of her face twitched, fingers curling about the spear. She hid so much before and now that she could not, how she basked in this open display.

“Wipe that fucking smirk off your face. Thal’s fucking balls, I never thought I’d prefer you in that stupid helmet.” It took _visible_ effort on her part to school her features back to whatever would pass for calmness. “So you have a plan to avoid that.”

“How astute you are Imperator.”

“Thal’s balls…” The woman rolled her eye, swaying on her feet for a moment before her balance was regained.

Suddenly the enjoyment she felt in provoking the other tasted hollow and rather bitter. Under the guise of not wanting to waste further time to this battle, a lie really, she folded her arms before her. “The King is due to arrive shortly, minutes if I had to guess. I desire not to be here upon his arrival, and neither do I think you wish to be as well.” It was _hard_ to remain so detached, especially as she watched the woman try to both maintain her footing and rub the side of her face where she took that _thing’s_ slashing attack.

To save her.

It was disconcerting. Discomforting. Disturbing.

“Yeah… what’s your plan…?” She sounded tired, tired and exhausted. Completely understandable; she should still be in recovery, not doing _this._ Her gaze went to the assembled men as though she hadn’t seen them before she made a quip about them. “They’re all loyal to you and not him?”

“Indeed.”

She was not afforded the chance to say further on it as one of the men pitched forward, blood welling under his prone body that took compacted soil some time to absorb. It drew shouts immediately as she spun, being instantly greeted by an amassed, perfectly lined up assembly of soldiers she did not recognize. The War Machine was distinct in their arms and armor, down to their helmets and the way they wore their weapons.

These were … not her men, much less men she ever commanded before.

Gone were the dark leather and blackened metal, replaced by a fuller plate of angry, vibrantly flaming red. Much akin to a fire, they could only be outdone by two _figures_ she knew were not of this world, or any other in this system. Twisted horns and skin the color of flames and piercing obsidian eyes. Claws and emanating auras and delivish smirks.

Darkness incarnate, at least what was native to Mars.

“Leaving so soon, are you now. I told you not to run, yet here you are.”

She knew the voice. It didn’t mean she had to acknowledge it.

The army parted as the King strode forward, easily topping those around him in height, yet still dwarfed by the two beings of Darkness that flanked him. To either side they stood, bored perhaps but she knew it to just be a guise.

“This must be the magical cunt that captivates the Premier of Mars so.” Much like how she ignored him, in turn she was equally ignored. He picked out the Imperator behind her, his goatee lifting as he smirked at whatever reaction she gave to being addressed so. “Come now little girl, you hold my daughter’s life in your capabilities to defeat me in a fight. Alas, you will not be able to enscroll me the way you have her.”

“The Premier has an inane concept of honor, so I doubt any sorcery was at hand.”

This was … asinine did not even begin to cover it. Her men loyal to her had paused, not sure what really the plan was in the first place. No portals were being ripped open from the fabric of reality, no one was lifting a spear or hefting up an axe. There was no chance the meager force behind her would be able to survive this should the King’s new army resume their march.

And here was the Imperator, provoking the bear in its den.

“The Premier acts at my bidding, girl. Any word she gives you can be nullified by me at any time. Such as … now.”

“I am not your Premier, and I am not doing your bidding further. I am leaving; that is final.” It felt _good_ to spit the words out, even though it just sealed the fate of those around her. “Now!” She yelled, snatching up the spear from her soldier who fell. Chucking it forward she knew it wouldn’t reach, but it didn’t stop her from launching it at the King all the same.

It was unsurprising that one of his two fiends merely waved a hand and the spear disintegrated to ash. 

Behind her she could feel the start of a portal opening, the sound of swords being drawn from their scabbards. Curses were soon to follow; there was no need to turn around to find out the reason _why,_ not when laughter sought to drown it all out. To the King, this was hilarity in action, watching her _attempt_ to escape his grasp. A mere wave of his hand and the armies marched forward, gleaming blades at the ready.

Yanking her sword free of her own scabbard, a gout of flame formed in her other hand, daring anyone to cross her. A wave of arrows flew overhead, falling out of the sky as an arc of lightning tore from one to another. She hadn’t even noticed that the sky above had turned cloudy, far too busy incinerating the mass of soldiers rushing forward. Behind her she heard shouts but paid them no mind, barely even registering that the Geomancer was at her right, axe at the ready.

The two fiends of Darkness never made a move towards them, for that matter neither did the King. She would have preferred to attack them, to vent her anger and frustration but too many things were in her way. No sooner did she strike one down then another two were in their place, stymieing her efforts to reach them no matter how much she wanted to. Between her sword and fire and the Geomancer’s axe the corpses began to pile up, hampering their ability to press forward. 

Sparing a glance behind her she saw the Scholar erecting walls of ice to catch the arrows that still flew in repeated waves. Directed by the Imperator her small regiment of men were beginning to return fire and build up something defensive, picking off those within range and trying to hold off those that were not to her cause from the start. Further back the SigilRippers were still trying to open their portals to no avail, Phobos and Deimos tending to the wounded. The remaining Terramancers were trying to call the ground at their feet to respond to their commands, only for the earth to equally not respond.

This was simply madness.

Her attention turned back to the situation before her even as the Geomancer cleaved a man in two with one powerful downward swing. Lightning arced out from the blow, striking the ground as it jumped forward erratically. Those caught in its path screamed inhuman sounds, pausing her fight to share a glance with the Jovian. It did not go unnoticed by the King, who merely laughed at their reaction but offered no explanation as to what was so funny. 

The dead before them twitched, slowly rising and ambling to their feet anew towards them again. 

Unconsciously or not she took a step back, hardly surprised that the Jovian did the same, or that they took another until their backs were against the melting walls of ice. If the dead could rise again… 

“Get the one on the right, we’ll distract the one on the left. We can’t do this forever.” At her ear she heard the Imperator, snapping her from her thoughts. Affording the woman a grunt she looked at the Geomancer. Receiving a nod she raised her sword again, fire filling her hand. The Jovian did much of the same, the air filling with static waiting to be unleashed. As bowstrings pulled back they charged forward, leaping over and sliding past those they had previously killed and returned to life.

Arrows whistled with deadly precision, the one fiend of Darkness was already moving to bat it away when a single arrow was driving for the second to distract. In that moment they both struck, yelling out their battle cries as sword and axe tore through the fire-colored flesh, spilling noxious orange blood in spurts. It was too easy to pivot, turning to attack the other one in much the same fashion.

The air crackled as another bolt of lightning crashed down from the sky, dispersing the reanimated dead for a moment. The feel of magic permeated the air again, competing with the overcharging static. The shouts she heard behind here were not ones of triumph and success, instead those of screeching death. Various curses punctuated the air, a symphony of voices calling for aid, understanding, and in general terror.

She could not afford to spare a glance but she looked behind her all the same, seeing remains of her men neatly sliced in half as the portal reacted to the presence of much stronger Darkness than they had encountered before. Instead of a way out it became a weapon, cutting through flesh and armor alike as though it simply did not exist. Blood, bone, entrails decorated the land and the few survivors who cautiously looked up from where they had been thrown by the explosion.

She heard the voices peak into a maddening cacophony of blood and she gave in.

The fires raged within her blood as she screamed, everything around her forgotten. Friend or foe, it truly didn’t matter at this point anymore, fire racing from her fingertips as she dropped her sword. Incinerating anything that came in her path she howled, lost to madness. It didn’t matter that the Geomancer had escaped this ring of fiery death, or that her means of leaving was beyond her grasping reach.

All that mattered was killing them all and sating the voices that shrilled their enjoyment.

* * *

“Go! Get the portal open now!” 

She heard the Imperator scream at them, the two SigilRippers that remained. Both looked beyond shaken, and for a Martian that said volumes within itself. Bits of flesh decorated their bodies, splattered with blood to add to the appearance. At the command both looked at each other and then the Imperator as though she was out of her mind before turning to the task set before them.

“Sound off-!” There was more to her shout, the roaring fires all but drowning it out. Voices though, some close, some far, echoed with some sort of acknowledgement. She felt her gaze on her, moving to find the Geomancer who was struggling back to her feet, then on to the two mysterious women. It afforded her the time to catch her own breath, taking it all in.

The heat was scorching, watching as the able and wounded scrambled back from it, increasing the distance between the Premier and more towards safety. She watched, rather horrified, as blisters appeared on those not quite fast enough, clothing singed by the sheer proximity and strength. A released breath and she called on the power of her Crystal, a warring element to the flames but if it meant it could save someone, _anyone,_ it was worth it. 

The Lunar landscape shone through the murky portal, and she never thought she would be so happy to see its gray surface again.

“Get the wounded through! YOU!” The Imperator pointed at soldiers that were not part of the Premier’s chosen, soldiers that instead had tried to kill them but at the series of events, looked to almost have a change of heart. “If your allegiance is to the Premier now get through the portal, or Thal’s fucking balls I’ll gut you myself!”

The blonde woman had a way with words, even being injured. Her clothing was equally singed as everyone else’s, red stains appearing along her arms and legs, the side of her body and the bandages around her face. Makoto made it to her feet by that time, her own hands scraped and freely bleeding from her leg from something tearing through the flesh. She looked dazed, a look of disbelief on her face amid the inferno. 

The two mysterious women came to the Imperator’s side, steadying her as she directed their escape. Packs were thrown through without care; they could be sorted out later. Those alive were already through, those still able to fight looked conflicted in braving the fires to aid their leader or save themselves from the carnage. The choice was taken from them as they were all but chased through by the blonde, shaking off the assistance to instead finish the evacuation until all that remained were her, Makoto, the Imperator, the two women, and the still raging Premier.

“We ‘ave ta go!” The Geomancer yelled above the crackling fire, hefting her axe back up in hand. Its wood was blackened, but the axe head still gleamed like it was freshly forged.

“I am not leaving without her!” The blonde all but stamped her foot down, her stance clear. That was surprising in a fashion, given how they fought so viciously against one another.

Makoto’s voice was ladened with coughs, the air turning thick with black smoke, as she pleaded with the other. The scent of flesh burning, of metal giving way to the demands of heat made her feel nauseated. “This fire’ll burn you alive if you try to walk in there!” The warning didn’t seem to do anything as the Imperator came close before jumping back, cursing under her breath.

That single blue eye pinned her down, her face a scene of determination, barred teeth, and ash. She knew what was being asked of her, what was being requested. All she could do was nod, drawing on her Crystal anew, a shimmering circle of ice taking shape.

“You both are fuckin’ crazy!” Above the discord the Geomancer could barely be heard, but then there she was, the three of them tightly huddled together to cross the furor around them. The progress was slow; against another Crystal she could hold her own but still be scarred. For the Imperator, it could mean certain death if her concentration faltered. For her sake, for all of their sakes, it was one step at a time, one step closer to their probable demise and another step towards the need to collect the wayward Premier.

It felt like ages before they were inside. Ash danced as much as the flames did, hypnotizing and enticing. If she just let go, if she just let down the barrier and went to the undulating masses… 

Their presence went unnoticed and unacknowledged.

The Premier was pacing, her attention hardly looking behind her at them. It was fixed before her, calling the scorching power in great plumes, directing it at the dead soldiers who _kept_ rising, who _kept_ ambling at her despite their countless deaths. That they had been burned to mere wisps of dust did nothing to stop them; there was always more appearing, more to take their place.

At her back she _felt_ Makoto cursing, the words lost but the meaning was too understandable. Her gaze sought out the Imperator, raising a hand to pull on her sleeve to get her attention. The eye that looked at them was haunted, fearful … reliving the past and the wounds levied against her. Taken aback she was about to yell at Makoto to grab the woman and they could escape when the Imperator suddenly turned, breaking away to run _to_ the Premier.

“NO!” In unison her voice joined with the Jovian’s, rushing after her but the woman, injured or not, was faster than them. They stumbled to a halt, watching in desperate horror as the blonde wrenched on the Premier’s arm, forcing her to turn around and face her.

Words… something was being said, but the fire ate it all and still demanded more. The Imperator had to be pleading, had to be begging if her body language had anything to say about it, and all the Premier did was raise her hand and call her fires anew.

The woman was going to die.

Both hands reached, her dislocated shoulder be damned, grasping the woman by her jacket to pull her sharply towards her.

And kissed her.

Spinning her around the Martian was shoved towards the portal, the Imperator snatching up her sword before hurrying back to the icy barrier. Understanding, or maybe she didn’t… maybe she just couldn’t believe that the Imperator would do such a thing to someone who caused her so much grief. Or perhaps she could; it stunned the Premier enough that they _could_ escape, _could_ make it.

There seemed to be hardly any care presented, rushing through the flames to where the two mysterious women and the portal awaited them. On the other side she could see the two SigilRippers straining to keep the portal open, soldiers and Terramancers alike still trying to collect themselves.

She was pulled through by Makoto, the two Martian seers following on her heels. Tumbling down to the ground she landed hard, forcing herself to roll over and rise to an elbow as she watched both Premier and Imperator collapse on the hard packed dirt in front of her. The portal winked out of existence, and she let out a shaky exhale.

They had made it, barely and at a terrible cost.

And the Darkness was growing out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So despite being furloughed, it seems to be really messing with my creativity. Thanks for your patience, and for those of you following "A Dangerous Woman to a Point," I plan on getting the next chapter posted shortly.


	17. Hieratic Recollections

Awareness came back with the best herald possible; a groan. It was soft, whatever she was laying on, soft and warm and for once, she could say without a lie that she _was_ warm and it had _nothing_ to do with the damnable Martian.

That brought about another bout of awareness, one she didn’t want to acknowledge yet and if she had it her way, she never would.

Her _eye_ opened; a blurry mass of white that was slow to clear and define itself. Instinctively her hands attempted to go to her face only to find that it was her right that responded and her left immobile.

It was probably the low key growling groan that brought her attention, uttered without a care as she struggled to sit up. She felt hands at her back, gentle but strong ones, easing her up before a lilting smirking voice followed, “Ara, Minako. No one here is going to strike.”

Able to sit up now and a palm that rubbed her eye clear gave way to a blink, seeing the Neptunian resume her seat. A facade of smugness warring with obvious concern and dare say, uncertainty. She hadn’t ever seen such a look before on the woman’s face, save for when she first arrived and even then…

Even then it didn’t look like this.

Her hand dropped, shoulders slumping as the weight of realization sunk deep into her bones. She never really had the chance to come to terms with what happened, recalling only hazy snippets of stark clarity. It was easy to recall Jupiter and rain, the Darkness in the shape of a mantis striking and then dragging that damnable Martian over some large expanse of mud amid downpours. From there it was murky again, barely recalling being woken up due to some asinine plan. Then fire, so much fire amid blood and flesh.

Now here.

She felt the bed dip next to her as her eye welled with tears, falling without remorse and care as unconsciousness wasn’t going to be her savior right now. The same soft hands rubbed along her back, offering their own comfort and the knowledge a shoulder was right there if she needed it.

“It’s alright,” Michiru began with, but nothing else followed after those words. Maybe she was second guessing herself, or maybe her mind was just too jumbled to try and find answers.

“Thal’s balls...” Her voice croaked and cracked, a glass of water carefully given that she guzzled down despite knowing better. At once she began coughing, nearly doubling over as her body tried to remember what it was like to drink and breathe, and how it was completely capable of doing both just not at the same time.

The other said nothing, merely placing the mostly empty glass on the small side table. As the silence stretched on and her breathing returned to whatever could be considered normal now, she released a long sigh. 

“We’re on the Moon, Haruka and I arrived yesterday. You, to my understanding, have been out for the past five days after suddenly appearing without notice here.” The woman gave her a long look, fingers brushing back loose bangs before trailing carefully over her face. “This looks recent…” trailing off she looked like she wanted to ask more on it, but decided not to in favor of providing details instead. “I see that you’ve managed to not only have a Mercurian join you, but close to a hundred Jovians, not to mention a decent number of Martians.”

She closed her eye; it was a rather simple action to do. Something easy for once. Part of her felt like just laying back down and returning to the unconscious state she had been in since it was freed of her normal nightmares. Something clicked though, recalling her actions that at least got them through the portal in the first place. She felt her face flush instantly, prepared to blame it though on a fever if the Neptunian decided to call her out on it. “Where’s everyone at?”

There it was, that damnable tilt of her head, followed by a thin, smug smirk. She _knew_ likely, there wasn’t a point in putting it past her. “Haruka is waiting outside, keeping the Premier company. The Mercurian is outside I believe with the leader of the Jovian forces here. The soldiers are outside, though I don’t know what exactly they are doing outside of waiting for the Premier to pay them heed.” She paused, considering for a moment. “There are two … women that arrived with you as well. They’ve been anxiously waiting for word of your condition, at least that is what I can gather despite their collective calmness. Do you know them?”

How could she not. Sadly all the times she was in their presence left her further and further in their debt. “I know who they are…” she softly said, followed by a hefty yawn. She felt exhausted despite apparently being out for a week.

Michiru nodded, a hand guiding her gently back down to the bed. “Get some rest, Minako. We’ll talk of everything when you’ve recovered more. I’ll let everyone know that you are conscious again, but resting, and to leave you be.”

That sounded fantastic to her, falling back to sleep the moment her head found the pillow again.

* * *

When consciousness decided to visit her this time and insist on her presence, it was Haruka lounging comfortably in the chair. The blonde hadn’t noticed her yet, or if she had she wasn’t reacting. Her gaze seemed fixed out the window, with a few fugitive glances to the door.

With nothing better to do; there were countless other things she _should_ be doing, she opted to look in the window’s direction before growing bored of the notion. Rubbing her eye instead she sat up, prompting the other to move in helping her sit.

Haruka moved to sit on the edge of the bed much like her fiance had, the disappointment mingling with concern. That was enough for her own features to turn towards a glowering frown; she bet it looked impressive before the older woman shook her head with a forced half laugh. “I’m not upset at you, I wasn't expecting you to be so coherent yet. Here.” A glass of water from the nearby table was offered to her. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got my face sliced off.” A deadpan answer for sure but the water tasted wonderful as she slowly drank it.

“You don’t say…”

“I’m … I don’t know. All the training didn’t seem to matter when these are the results.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, look what you managed to do. The Moon is clear and actually growing. I heard Earth has been cleansed as well.”

“At a rather shitty cost.” She mumbled, knowing that Haruka would pick up on it. While it wasn’t exactly her to be sullen about things, she had a rather nasty streak of it all the same once her mood settled on it. “What time is it?”

The other blonde took her attitude in stride for once instead of calling her out on it. Apparently her injuries gave her a bit of leeway, and with that knowledge in hand she would savour the fuck out of it.

“It’s close to midday. You’ve been asleep for a full day since Michiru was here.” The older woman glanced to the window then back to her. “There’s been two ravens perching on the ledge every so often. I didn’t think the Moon had birds like them.”

A ghost of a smile crossed her face before she offered the empty glass back. “They’re not native to here, they actually came from Mars.”

“Premier’s pets?”

That was worth a laugh, even as her voice cracked and she coughed a few times. “Ha ha no. I wouldn’t call them that, and certainly not around either party. They’re…” She trailed off, looking for the right words.

“Oh. Oh I get it. Yeah I can see where that’d be rather insulting. Well, they’ve been keeping an eye on you too. We’ve kept everyone else out, other than the Queen of course.”

At mention, it triggered things she needed to tell them all. From what they saw on the Moon and Earth, and the bits she recalled from Mars. Everyone else would need to fill in those holes in her memory. “Help me braid my hair and look a bit more presentable. I need to talk to you all about what we’ve seen.”

Haruka didn’t question the sudden turn for seriousness the conversation took, rather she looked aback at the notion of braiding her hair. “I don’t know how to do that!”

“Oh come on. You can’t tell me that you haven’t braided Michiru’s hair before.”

“Well yes but that was different.”

“And I _know_ you _know_ how to use your fingers.”

A wary look was cast in her direction, completely with a slowly raising eyebrow. “Gods Minako are you _insinuating_ what I _think_ you are?”

“Thal’s balls Haruka, you blush so much the minute someone flirts back with you. No wonder Michiru slips her innuendos in conversations so much. The reactions alone really _are_ worth it.”

The wary look wasn’t fading anytime soon, even as she was helped along to a change of clothes and her hair brushed out. “You must be feeling better then,” was all that was offered to her though, hair gathered back to a more simplistic braid but she got it. Sure they could joke and almost trade flirtatious remarks but it wasn’t like she was trying to break the two up. She spent a decade with them; somethings she couldn’t help but pick up on and let influence her mannerisms.

Then again, as much as she might curse her faith and Goddess, it wasn’t like she could easily stop being _who_ she _was._

“It’s bad out there Haruka. Really bad.” Offered as a premonition while she pulled on her boots, awkwardly leaning over to tie them. Her arm was still in a sling, still felt inflamed and sore. Not to mention having her depth perception fucked up it didn’t take long before the other batted her hands away to lace up her boots for her instead.

“We’ll come up with something, don’t worry. You gonna be able to stand on your own or do I need to lug you around?”

Getting to her feet wasn’t an issue; walking around was. As she almost careened into the bed, the chair, and finally the wall by the door she paused, collecting her senses. “I’ve got to learn how to deal with this, just try to make sure I don’t fall if you would.”

* * *

She had been left alone in the conference room. It seemed _no one_ was close by, and rather than stumble into more things, Haruka told her to wait here instead. Everyone would be along shortly.

It felt rather dismissive, if she had to be honest.

Maybe though it was for the better. This wasn’t who she was nor really what she wanted to do. There had been too many times she thought that Haruka would have been the better leader, not her.

It made her wonder who decided to contact the two and have them here.

Frowning she sat back for the umpteenth time in the chair, another routine established of leaning forward as though, at any given moment, someone would join her. Only for it to be for naught and back she would go. 

Her face hurt, her whole body hurt, and someone had taken her ring that allowed her to skip the concept of eating and made sleep a passing thought. At this rate, her irritability was going to skyrocket, and they’d only have themselves to blame. For once in a very long time she felt _hungry,_ and if this wasn’t so important, food would have won out.

Closing her _eye_ a moment it was slow to open with that of the door.

Barely the scowl stayed off her face but the internal scoff could not be helped as the Premier paused, an equal expression of controlled dislike, before shutting the door behind her. At the opposite end of the table she sat _elegantly_ enough, to all appearances hardly _dissatisfied_ with the current arrangements.

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Haruka had this planned. If she did though, she could have at least had food brought in.

Unbidden, but with nothing else to really do, she _essentially_ stared at the other woman. Try as she might to think and believe otherwise, she _had_ to acknowledge _who_ she was, even if the circumstances were ill.

It was too easy to recall all those times of before, another woman’s memories but still hers all the same. It was too easy to remember what it had been like with Mars, all the times she had made love to her. With her. Those times she had been worshiped in return with eyes that looked at her with such conviction and devotion. Fiercely loyal, burning passion, encompassing _love._

A far cry from the apathy of now.

She felt her heart pick up its beat, reminding her of times that they had fought alongside one another as opposed to _against_ each other. The Goddess of Love was hardly a passive person; often others called _her_ far more ruthless than her War counterpart. Love could quickly turn to hate, hate to desire, and desire to war. A vicious cycle that, at this rate, would probably burn out completely.

Their last few lives together had been fraught with more rivalry than normal. Mars fought and rebelled against her leadership with a fury unrestrained, all the while acknowledging their _past_ but it _wasn’t enough._ It wasn’t _reason_ enough that they continue their _relationship,_ whatever it could really be classified as anyway. Soulmates certainly, but it drove a rift between their connection to one another that was turning to an insurmountable chasm.

It ended with what someone would consider tragic. All she remembered is that it broke her heart. Repeatedly.

This wasn’t the first time of course, but as their lives stretched on, the memories became increasingly faint of good times instead of frustrating, outright dangerous times. Aspects changed; it was only natural, but she remembered being just shy of her sixteenth name day, praying in a temple dedicated really to _herself,_ that if things did not improve, Love would die.

It was with weighty prophecy that she went to Mars against her mother’s misgivings. True enough, the Mars of now had _no_ idea _who_ she was. Or maybe she did. Maybe that was the answer for the cruelty, a way to drive home the point.

She felt tears well in her eye, prompting a stubborn palm to go to it. If asked, not that she would be of course, it’d be easy to blame as a headache. Headache, heartache. It was about one and the same.

Maybe that’s why she just didn’t care and threw herself to it. Better to just die out completely than let this _game_ continue for a few more centuries. The Queen would understand, maybe. She couldn’t do this anymore.

She just wanted it to stop.

There were things to do, important things, that what she wanted would have to wait. Pushing back in her seat she reached for her facade even as her stomach rumbled. The sound drew the Premier’s attention, another unreadable expression.

This simply wouldn’t do. 

“I thought only _pretty things_ could ever enthrall you.”

A blink, slow and steady, before the woman turned away to face the door. She wasn’t expecting an answer; if anything she didn’t want her pity or concern despite the craving she had for it. It was a lie that she was willing to believe in despite not feeling the conviction any longer.

“Perhaps we both learned something.”

Denied a chance to respond, the door opened, Mercurian and Jovian entering. The former carrying her computer and the latter an armful of maps. At sight of her the maps were all but thrown on the table, decorum be damned as the Geomancer had lifted her out of her chair with enthusiastic shouts of how happy she was to see her up and moving. Had her computer perhaps not been so valuable, she was certain that the Scholar would have joined in.

Allowed back on her own feet with assurances she was alright, just hungry; that prompted the Scholar to excuse herself in the name of finding someone who could, in turn, find her something to eat, the opportunity of seeing the Premier look in her direction with barely veiled jealousy was not to be missed.

Was it fleeting joy? She honestly couldn’t answer if someone even posed the question to her. Instead the look was shoved to the wayside with a mere roll of _those_ eyes, pointedly diverting their attention towards far more socially acceptable distractions in the room.

“It’s been a mess y’know? Came back to some fightin’ goin’ on.”

She missed something, looking blankly at the Geomancer who had dropped into the chair next to her.

At her expression on her face, she watched as the Jovian glanced at the pointedly inattentive Premier at the far end of the table. Understanding came with a sly look, a smirk of her own. “Don’t worry abou’ it. We got told there was a meetin’ an’ can discuss it then. How ya feelin’? Told we couldn’t check in on you or anythin’ like that.”

“Outside of the obvious… haven’t been this hungry in years.” It came as a mutter, a herald before her stomach growled.

“Ya know, I wondered how you did it. Gotcha one of them rings huh? Ones that let you skip eatin’ and sleepin’?” The Geomancer gestured at her hands. Unwrapped, it was just her bare skin until it met with her sleeve. She kept her palms flat on the table top; it was just _easier_ that way. 

Ashamed to describe it that way, it was a blank look she gave in answer.

“Yer ring, it’s gone. So yer hungry now.”

Oh. Oh right that. She was too used to seeing her own skin that the faint, much paler flesh around her middle finger did not exactly stand out as important. The Jovian was astute, at the least. “Yeah. Not exactly easy to rest while on the move.” She should probably come clean with her and relate who she was; perhaps she owed the other that much for agreeing to everything she had while not giving her the amount of grief she received from other sources. It was a consideration; she might have actually been serious about it, save for the other occupant in the room.

Not now. Certainly not yet. Maybe later; it was an absolute that it _would_ actually be later, but for now. For now she could stay ignorant. It probably served her right, some small, petty part of her conscience agreed.

The Jovian, to her credit, laughed. An easy sound, maybe nothing actually bothered her ever. She sank back into the unyielding chair as comfortable silence filled the void. Hardly long to last as both Michiru and Haruka walked in, the door barely shutting before the Mercurian was right there, holding a tray. It brought a look from the two, and a playful smack to the blonde’s arm and a barely audible ‘Ara Haruka’ at the realization of what it was.

Leaving the couple the tray was set before her, the Scholar taking a seat on her other side. “It’s not much sorry, just a sandwich and something to drink. They said once everything was done they would have something more filling sent to you.” She reached for her computer next, busying herself with setting it up.

Pointedly, both Michiru and Haruka sat by them, lost in their own conversation in low tones. No one was sitting by the Premier, driving a further dividing wedge between them. It did not go unnoticed, a dismissive but furious enough glance given in their direction as the Martian continued to stare at the door. The huff was easy to pick up on, or maybe it was because she was looking for it.

Food didn’t sound appealing, her appetite was lost. Pushing the tray aside she pushed up to her feet, earning her eyes. No one said being a leader was easy, after all.

She gestured to the Mercurian at her right, “So you all cannot say you don’t know who each other is. The Scholar Ensign of Mercury, Ami.” With a sweep of her hand, she pointed at the woman to her left. “The Geomancer and leader of the Ruin Terramancers of Jupiter, Makoto.” One eye or not, it was still a pointed look given at the far end of the table. “The Premier of Mars, Rei.” Silently she applauded herself for keeping her voice steady and unwavering, acknowledging something that had been unspoken for so long.

She knew _exactly_ who she was. She was tired of the game.

With the attention of the three on her still, her hand swept over the two remaining. “The Scryer of Neptune, Michiru and the Exemplar of Uranus, Haruka.” The door opened at that point as the Queen made her way inside, accompanied by the Mau. There was no point in providing more introductions; the Queen knew who everyone was after all. Instead, after everyone but the Premier rose until the Queen took her seat; closer to the Martian but that was because that was the only room left available, she remained standing.

No time like the present.

“While we have done much, there’s still much left to be done. We’ve reached an impasse, and I didn’t need to be conscious to know that the War Machine has revoked their terms yet the Premier has decided to remain for her reasons along with some of her forces.” She lifted the lid to the tray to retrieve the mug of water there, feeling her mouth go dry already. “The Darkness is adapting to us. It’s showing its intelligence, not only in the forms it takes, but in its ability to create … Thralls. We saw barely sentient beings on the Moon and far more serious ones on Earth.”

“They got some of mine. We came back to some of them like that.” Makoto spoke up, shedding some light on her words of before.

A look of worry crossed the Neptunian’s features; which was a rare sight given that Michiru was always in control of herself. It turned into a glance shared with Haruka before both looked back at her.

That … was not going to bode well.

“I can’t provide anything really on Jupiter beyond the whole planet appearing to be covered with Darkness. On Mars…” She trailed off, mostly unsure how to continue on. Mostly unconscious during that time, she wasn’t quite sure what she saw and what she could trust. 

“We did not determine if they were Thralls or if they were that planet’s version of Darkness. The soldiers of the War Machine didn’t … die. Despite being hewn by sword and axe, they kept rising again. Only the ones caught by fire and scorched to ash did not reform.” Ami took over, her computer placed back on the table before her, turned to cast an image on the far wall.

Gratefully she took her seat again, burying herself behind the mug of cold water as the Scholar stood instead, pointing out features of the projected images. Mars was on fire, wounded littering the ground along with the dead. The image did not show the Premier, just a ring of fire instead. Amid the flames soldiers that had not sided with her were returning to their feet despite the multitude and nature of some of the injuries they possessed.

“The ones we put down of my people have stayed down so far.” At least Makoto didn’t include a jab in there about Martian stubbornness. Perhaps everyone realized how serious it was. “Seems some of them had gone over long ‘fore we even got here.” Green eyes looked to the Queen for a moment before their attention slid to her. “Sorry Imperator. Ya asked for my best an’ I said I’d provide that.”

She hadn’t been expecting such a statement, and hadn’t thought she was even warranted an apology. It caught her by surprise, knowing the emotion was clearly plastered across her face. “It’s … I doubt anyone is blaming you. You didn’t know … _we_ didn’t know.”

“The Mirror showed something like this happening, of the inhabitants of planets willingly going to the Darkness. I did not consider it a possibility, rather as a warning of things to come.” Quietly Michiru spoke, the mentioned mirror in her hands. “The Moon was one of the last places to be infected. It would make sense that its Thralls were the weakest.”

“I didn’t even consider that. Mercury drove off our own some time ago…” to her computer Ami went, typing rapidly. The images projected vanished as she worked. “To our records the Darkness arrived a hundred or so years ago. We never considered that perhaps it moved from one planet to the next over a course of years; we thought it was the entire system at once.”

Haruka immediately snorted at the accusation that wasn’t there. “We slowed it down so it _wasn’t_ all at once.”

“Ara Haruka, she didn’t mean it so.”

“Our reports also show that the Darkness has been here before. This isn’t the first time.” The slight waver in the Scholar’s voice drew her attention out of the mug of water. _She_ knew how long the Darkness had been in the system; it was synonymous with when _Mars_ and her began falling out. Were the two related? Possibly.

At the words though, Haruka opened her mouth then promptly shut it. A look was shared between them before the older blonde glanced at her partner.

“So yer sayin’ it’s been here ‘fore an’ keeps comin’ back?” Makoto drew attention back with her obvious question. “Why don’t any of us know that then? We don’t have any records of the Darkness bein’ here save recently, and that’s only ‘cause all of Jupiter’s moons are inhabitable. S’why we even do work for the War Machine… we can’t grow our own stuff anymore and have to trade with Saturn fer the necessities.”

Haruka was quick to snap back at the flimsy excuse offered. “If you were that bad off you could have told anyone instead of fucking things up for those people Mars can’t leave alone.”

“Whut, an’ deal with yer pompous ass? A delegation was sent to yer planet an got turned away.” Undeterred, the Geomancer would stand her ground. “I got a responsibility to my people an’ if it means followin’ behind a butcher to survive, then that’s what we had to do. It’s not like any other planet was accessible to us, much less would listen. Earth was too primitive half the time or too busy fightin’ itself, Mercury was beyond question along with Venus. The Moon ‘ere was barely hangin’ on playin’ peacekeeper all the time to help defend ineffectively against Mars. So take yer pompous bullshit an’ shove it.”

She swore she could _feel_ the electricity in the air, the static. “The Darkness has been here for eons, and each time it’s been driven back. Things have degenerated to the point though that the situation is much worse than it has ever been. _That_ … that’s what we are trying to fight back before it consumes us all.”

“The Imperator is correct. Had we been better supplied and prepared, we would have offered your planet and your people assistance. It shames me to say that we were not able to provide.” At least the Queen spoke up, her voice soft but the weighing concern was there, more so apparent at each look cast in her direction and the tension between Geomancer and Exemplar. “The Darkness can be driven back, but it requires _everyone’s_ assistance in turn.”

Silence followed, a quiet fuming. Her mug of water was long since empty at this point. Outside of the earlier scowls, the Premier hadn’t made a sound, which was worrisome in its own right.

With a scoff and received hidden glare from her partner, Haruka focused on her. “What do you need.”

She wanted to scream that questions should be questions, not statements. “Fighters and a plan. We can’t return to Mars, not yet. If the Darkness has infiltrated more of Jupiter than anticipated, then we’ll need a way to combat that. We’ll need something to make traversing the planet easier too; it’s not just a little mud and rain we’re dealing with.” No, of course not. There were thunderstorms and lightning, not to mention creatures that could maim in a simple, singular attack. “Mars will be the most difficult despite Jupiter’s size. If there are like minded Terramancers, like the ones that helped us here on the Moon and Earth, we will be better equipped to deal with Mars.”

“I’ll put you in contact with someone from Saturn. What people we can spare we’ll send your way.” Came back the hard-lined response. Of course. The outer planets were under control. This was an inner system problem, no matter their placement in the Alliance. “You should take stock of what you have first.” No fucking shit. “And you need to learn to move again anyway, injury or not.”

“I’ll consult my mirror before we take our leave. Perhaps there is something new it can show.” Equally as dismissive but far more elegantly put. Maybe they were anticipating the Queen to change her mind, to place one of them in charge. Or maybe, they had been away for too long to stay any longer, or help, would jeopardize their own planets’ well-being. 

All the same she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, nodding her head in thanks. She turned her attention to the Scholar who had ceased the display of images but not her continuous typing. “I don’t suppose your people have anything that can help, do they? These scanners were great but…”

“No, I’m sorry Imperator. We’re not a fighting based society, so we don’t produce items of destruction on a wide scale. I may be able to procure a few things but it will just be for a few people. Our production capabilities are limited.” She didn’t even miss a beat, barely looking at her as she spoke. It was impressive in some fashion. Impressive and a bit scary.

It was a lot to think on, silence following. Even the Queen seemed to be looking for her direction, adding to the severity of it all. She needed to find out what the Premier was doing here, how committed were any of their forces and if they should be expecting an attack. They should be, she knew, but an idea of _when_ would be nice.

There was no time like the present when the door opened again, taking with it the opportunity she was reluctant to take. One of the Lunar forces; a Banner Sergeant by his uniform, peeked his head inside before hesitantly entering. “I … erm. Your Grace there’s … there’s a man. He’s uh. Ah he’s a Mau and he … he said it was important that he see her?” His hand pointed shakily in her direction, a visage pleading to dismiss him quickly.

A Mau… she felt her eye go wide, shoving the chair back she rose from it quickly. Decorum be damned, she didn’t bother doing anything more that would otherwise impede her actions. Brushing past the man it took her seconds to recall the fastest way out. Managing to only run into the walls two or three times before she got her bearings down, she ignored the skeletal crew of staff and milling soldiers.

“Artemis!”

There he was, turning from where he stood outside on actual growing grass. The last time she had been here it was just barren land. Dirty robes robbed of their pristine white hung looser than the last time she had seen him. Pocked with holes and rips, it spoke of his travels and journeys undertaken. But how he smiled, arms wide to engulf her and catch her.

It had been years … thirteen of them if she had to be exact, since she had last seen him. His white hair looked stringy, stressed, and his teal eyes not quite so vibrant with energy, but how his smile was still the same. It was so easy to ignore everything else around them and just cling to this small piece of home.

“This is for you.” He said, his voice soft, as he pressed a small box to her hands. “I’m sorry it took so long to get to you.”

“Is … is this…?” She felt her voice cracking again and the start of tears. Plain, unadorned, simple. It didn’t look like anything a Venusian would be in possession of, much less her mother.

He nodded instead, folding his hands over her own. “She said that all you need to do is embrace your love.”

The hope, the excitement… the thrill of a chance, of possibility, drained from her like a sieve. Love? Her hands shook, rattling the box within, before her knees gave out, depositing her unceremoniously on the ground.

Love.


	18. Delusions of Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So probably going to earn that "Graphic depictions of violence" tag now. You've been warned.

There wasn’t a reason to be here save for answers. That really was the driving point now, the singular reason why she had done what she had. The willingness to forsake what she barely believed in the first place. A decision to commit her abilities elsewhere, despite that no one had even bothered to ask her why.

Perhaps they anticipated she wouldn’t answer them in the first place, and instead of wasting their energy on it they devoted it towards pursuits that could be considered pointless.

Her word had shifted enough, the circumstances changed to the point that she was willing to trade. Answers for answers. It was _fair._

She sat within the room, bored to all appearances. It was just a matter of time, always just a matter of time, before the door would open.

It was but an hour later that her patience had been rewarded for its diligence.

Drained. Drained, exhausted, bereft of something; perhaps hope, that had been clung to. It was easy to describe the blonde in such words as she stumbled inside. Had it been depth perception it would have been explainable. Had it perhaps been the news she received, it also would explain things.

But her hand clenched the small box just as her other clutched a bottle, the contents sloshing within.

That blue eye scanned over her, accepting that she was here without even a roll. Instead she shouldered the door behind her to a close, slumping down into the other chair across the room. The bottle of clear liquid went to the table top, the box to follow, and her body went limp in the chair. Legs stretched out before her, her head tilted back to send blonde hair spilling in its braid behind her. The ceiling held her attention, a hard to see but knowledgeable far away look taking residence.

“Who are you really?” And for once, the question came out as such. Softly spoken, no less firm in expectations to be answered. “Saturn or Venus are the only options left.”

Attentively she watched the other as her eye closed a moment before reopening. The only other indication was her hand finding the bottle on the table, a thumb working the cork out before she sat up, drinking a long pull from it. She waited further, the bottle placed back on the table and the slouch resumed.

“Minako. Prefect of Venus.” The response came a few moments later on a dead voice.

“And the man?”

There was an inhale, a mighty one at that. “Artemis. A Mau from the Lunar Court. Sorcerer and diplomat between Venus and the Moon.”

“Not family?”

“No. Not family.”

Her gaze darted the box then back at the now named blonde. It told her … nothing. “Then?”

The other sat up, fixing her with that single blue eye that swam with murky implications. There was a fire there, a fire burning brightly. Stubbornness maybe, or a sullen resolve. At the least, indecipherable.

“Did you know your sword is of Venusian make? It was forged at my home. Skilled smiths worked the metal for an entire Venusian year, folding the steel upon itself countless times in the process. The maker’s mark near the hilt tells everything about it’s creation.”

She was aware of the weight of her sword at her right. It still answered nothing.

“People would sell their souls for a weapon of Venusian make.” The blonde snorted, another swig from the bottle taken. Alcohol, if the shudder her body at last gave was any indication. “Here, you just had to butcher enough people for it instead.”

“Your name means nothing-”

“It means everything to me!” She was on her feet quicker than she even gave her credit for. “You have no idea who I am _still!”_ It was almost shrill in the outburst, and she found herself wary. For long moments their gazes remained locked before the Imperator snorted again at her. “This is fucking ridiculous. Thal’s fucking balls, what the hell do _you_ want _this time.”_

“Answers. You’ve yet to ask why I’m even here.”

Her hands were thrown up in the air but she didn’t make a grab for the bottle again. “Am I supposed to care why you are here? The reasons why you defied Daddy and his bullshit spewing accusations? Am I supposed to be wet at the knowledge my _‘magical pussy’_ put a spell on you? Is that it? Are you here wanting me to jump your bones to prove your dear, precious Father right?!”

Her gaze flicked to the box then back again. An unadorned, unassuming box. The situation needed defusing. “That contains your Crystal. It could _heal_ you of your injuries. Why haven’t you _embraced_ it yet?”

The fire that raged within the blonde seemed to instantly snuff out. Her shoulders slumped all at once, turning on her heel to pace to the window. The sky outside was giving way to dusk. When she spoke again it was a broken whisper, ragged and dripping of agony. “I can’t.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together, attempting to understand. She was the heir of her planet, so there shouldn’t be an issue. Unless she wasn’t of course, then she couldn’t. It made no sense to her. “You cannot because?” Attempting to keep it as open ended as possible she kept her voice calm.

The Imperator turned to look at her, perhaps almost considering before she opted to lean against the window frame instead. “I can’t _embrace,_ as _you_ put it, because I don’t _feel_ it. You’ve had your Crystal for years now Premier, but before you could grasp it you had to endure and feel the very fires of your planet first. Likely your parents gave you some grand bullshit ceremony, something that didn’t show how batshit insane your father became. The others had to do a similar thing, unique in some ways and common in others, to gain their Crystals and the power contained within. I can’t, plain and simple.”

She didn’t like how much the woman knew about her, the more intimate details of her life. For as open as she was being right now instead of steadfastly refusing to cower under her presence, it was just allowing more questions to arise. “Why not.” It seemed so straight forward to her, forgetting to add the inquiry to the remark.

As she blinked up at the woman who moved like a whirlwind, who had pulled her from her seat and now sat across her thighs, she considered that maybe she should remember to do so from the position of being flat on her back on the bed. The blonde straddled her easily, looking down at her with malice and restrained fury. “Pay attention _Premier,_ for I will say this but _once. You_ don’t seem to _want_ to remember who _I_ am, no matter _how_ many times you have met me. I arrived on Mars eleven years ago by the Lunar calendar to meet _you, to remind you who I am._ Instead you chose to play the part of ignorance along with your assfuck of a father. While my heart and my soul may eventually forgive you for your actions against me, I will not,” her finger jabbed hard at her forehead, “ignore the fact you _don’t know who the fuck I am._ Thal’s fucking balls, I may be able to _ignore_ how you fucking _branded_ me as your Gods forsaken property, but _not how you made me feel useless and replusive!”_

A swallow. It was all she could offer outside of her wide eyes. Not that they indicated she was visited by an epiphany or that she understood, but that she was being manhandled by the woman. _No one_ did such to her, _no one_ laid so much of a finger on her unless she _wanted_ it and here this woman was, ignoring _everything._

“I worked on your sword for months, helping the smiths with their work. I brought in the wood that was fed to the forge, that created the charcoal to enable a long burn. I hammered with them, strengthening the length of steel that would become the very blade you use to kill indiscriminately with. Despite our misgivings I insisted on having it made anyway, hoping that in the time between you receiving it to the day I could meet you that you would remember. Apparently though your barbaric father opted to turn an already warminded people into a fucking Machine. I know _you_ received the sword because the delegation came back in pieces with a sole survivor. Fashionably or whatever you were trying to prove, you or someone in your court had accepted it and used it.”

Her sword was not digging into her side. For that matter, she was hardly aware that she still wore it. A familiar thing, noticed only if it was missing. An expectation it would always be available. It did nothing to narrow her gaze up at the blonde, simmering fury at being flat on her back.

“I can still remember your face, that cruel smirk of yours. How your lips curl just there, at the end of your mouth. The way your eyes reflected the light of the fire and whatever primal spirit it was that danced in your gaze. The sweltering heat, the encompassing, suffocating hold as the very air turned hotter and hotter. _‘Uai qedd lytytxyl swez odqouz.’_ you said as the brand was pressed to my flesh. _‘Bal uai oly faswefr sa ty xis zatyswefr bal ty sa izy oz E hdyozy,’_ after you backhanded me for speaking out against you, that this wasn’t you. But it was you, it _is_ you, and how delighted you were in making sure I would remember being _nothing_ to you.”

The Imperator’s voice had dropped as she spoke, her gaze shifting inward and less attentive on her. An opportunity to escape that she lost at the feel of fingertips brushing against her face, tracing her mouth. Her Martian was close enough to being flawless that she almost sounded like a native outside of the unconscious lilting quality she gave to the words. She knew what the words were; how could she not, but she had no recollection of ever saying them.

“That wasn’t the end of it though. The only fortunate thing was the lack of audience. Just you, your precious father, and a few other people. How you all laughed. How you all laughed and laughed at the entertainment before you.”

“I don’t remember any of this.” She simply spoke, stubbornly refusing to relax under her like her body was wishing to. This was the source of her irritation, her anger. The woman had severed the relationship she had with her father and her monumental failures at losing so many men to a pointless crusade. The people should know when they were conquered and here was this woman, this … this _Venusian_ offering them hope. She wanted to snarl, to call forth the fires that she commanded and burn her to a crisp.

But she felt calm. The voices were silent and had been ever since they arrived on the Moon’s surface. A clarity of sereneness had enveloped her the moment she had walked into the room. Peaceful, it was the only way she could describe it, being pinned under her. Outside of aroused but it was better to not think of that.

“You used to complain about fire so much, how much it called to your senses. How you loathed that it commanded your attention no matter how much you wanted it to be on me.” The soft timbre of the Imperator’s voice continued, fingertips trailing along her jaw and throat. “We would talk for hours as the fire burned low. Sometimes, when it had been a while, you would be gruff about it, lamenting that when you closed your eyes while away it was scenes of fire that filled your thoughts and not so often of me.”

“I don’t _know_ who you are.” Internally she regretted the whiny quality her voice took, the unconsciously given emphasis of her words. She hated the way her breathing was hitching, the restlessness she felt as though she should _know_ who this annoyance was. She especially hated the way she wanted to wrap her arms around her and bury her nose within her hair. To comfort her, kiss her, and taste her. 

“No. You do.” The far away look was gone now, clarity solidifying in the single eye that fixated on her. She felt fingertips against her skin now, alarmed that her coat had been undone, her shirt unlaced without any awareness of it happening. “You remember here.” Fingers pressed for a moment over her heart, the Imperator sitting back across her thighs once more before she pushed back to her feet again. “But you lose yourself to your bloodlust and forget everything that was important to you.”

Her want of freedom warred with her desire to be bound and restricted. Sitting up, she made it as far as her elbows, looking at the woman as though she just grew another head. “What? What does this have to do with _you?”_

The woman merely picked up the box off the table, looking forlornly at it or maybe it was her. It was hard to tell. “It’s love you idiot. That is my element, and that’s what I can’t embrace. Because of you, Thal’s balls, we’re all going to die unless I can remember what it was … is … like to love you.”

* * *

Back and forth her gaze passed between the two as they sparred, the Imperator’s continued attempts to attack the Exemplar. As each blow was about to fall the Uranian merely brushed it aside, her counter attack always forcing the Venusian to give ground and stay defensive for a handful of moves. Then the short hair woman would relent and it would start all over again. It was not a fighting style she had studied, had cared for… there was no need for hand to hand when she would have access to her bow, her sword, or her fires. Yet, she had to give it credit towards effectiveness, for the Imperator _had_ managed to beat her at least _once._

It had been two days since the return of the Mau, and two days since she had been identified as the problem. She had drilled with her men; as everyone else left them alone so did they in turn. On occasion a remainment of the Lunar forces would stare at them, but all it took was a mere look from a Martian and they would run off scrambling. Aware of their unspoken questions she provided no answers to them, busying herself with her archery or watching two people spar.

Why exactly was she here, outside of answers. She had been provided them certainly but they were not the answers she wanted perhaps. Or rather, they were answers for questions she wasn’t ready to ask yet. On a gamble or something more, she defied a powerful ruler and an army to escape to a pathetic backwater satellite for her desperate need to know the _why_ and _how._ Instead she was given a guilt riddled explanation for slights she had apparently caused during a time she couldn’t remember.

She would have laughed about it had it not been so delusional on her behalf to expect anything more.

Looking away, her gaze picked out Phobos and Deimos, apparently done with hiding themselves from her and the questions she had of _them._ They weren’t the only ones planned for her inquisition but of the list, at least she knew they’d be cryptic from the start. Leaving her view of the match; she didn’t care anymore at this point, both stood attentively at her approach. 

There was no time like now, and no one else about. 

“You know her how.” Clean, to the point. Her allotment of question asking had already met its quota and wouldn’t be replenished for years.

Neither spared the other a look, merely looking back at her calmly. “She’d be the better one to answer that, not us.” Which one answered… it didn’t matter.

“Then how did you meet her first.”

That brought a pause, the telltale sign of debate before the other answered. “She arrived at the Palace, just herself. No handmaidens to accompany her, no guard, no herald. She came to meet _you,_ and meet you she did. There, in the throne room sat your father and a few of his advisors that had not yet vanished under circumstances best not dwelled upon. As the fires roared along the sides, she spoke to you calmly, nevermind that the room was sweltering for anyone not of Martian blood. Perhaps purposely those fires burned hotter, before you laughed at her audacity, ignorance, and foolishness. She was nothing to you, you stated, and nothing was all she would ever be. From your belt withdrawn you clasped manacles over her wrists, denying her the opportunity to leave, to just let you be, for her to return to her home. Instead, you sent one of the advisors to fetch you a branding iron and cast it into the already inferno around you.”

Two sets of blue eyes focused on her, pinning her in place where she stood.

“As she swore that your actions were not who you were, you backhanded her for speaking out of place. Flesh will always yield to steel, and as she stood dazed and bleeding from the mouth, you branded her. No matter how she pulled at the manacles, no matter how she nearly shorn her thumbs from her hands, you laughed. You all laughed, finding it amusing that you could bring someone so low, a person who sought you out in peace being reduced to a quivering mess. You weren’t done yet though, calling upon your fires you marked her again, burning and melting her skin, a reminder she would always have to see unlike the brand on her back.”

She swallowed.

“From there you had her drug to your rooms and left her hanging, literally. Denied however any further pleasure you could take, your father issued orders to you for an attack on Earth’s most populous city. You left, and for a fortnight, no one knew she was there. By that time, an infection had set into her mouth, scarring her flesh that hid broken teeth. Her left shoulder was dislocated along with the tearing of muscle where she hung from that hook in your ceiling. Afforded nothing, she … stank. Dried blood, dried urine and other bodily fluids competed for dominance, and yet it was the overwhelming scent of despair and betrayal that beat it all out. Starved, dehydrated; we thought she was dead at first until she looked at us. We both found her like that, we both cared for her until we could sneak her out on one of the few transports that were still running. We sent her to safety, knowing you would forget by the time you returned from your conquests.”

“We’ve known her long before that, however. We have known her for ages.” The other spoke, a hand going to the arm of the one who recounted her crimes in silent comfort. “That was the most recent time, outside of your arrival again on Mars, outside of here.”

“You should ask her who we are, Rei. You should ask her why it was so important that she meet you.”

“Having those answers will quell many of the other questions that overwhelm you. Even the ones that you _don’t_ think are related.”

The two said nothing more, not even waiting for a dismissal, acknowledgement, _anything_ that their words had been heard and comprehended.

This could all be a lie. Save that they never had a reason to do so, they never had. The disbelief was paramount; _she didn’t recall_ any _of this._ To be told she had done all of these things, had said what she had, acted in the manner she had… few lived to tell what it was like when she was in a blood rage, often finding themselves caught in it and dying. Rooks had escaped such but … she couldn’t remember how he managed. It seemed so long ago, even longer that he had been alive.

It was a frown, it was the only way she could describe what her face settled on. A glance around her found Phobos and Deimos gesturing in the direction of a few lone trees none too far away; the sparring match was done as the shorter haired blonde was nowhere to be seen.

Despite her intentions to not outright announce her presence, it seemed a futile exercise when she was spotted all the same. A neutral enough look was cast in her direction before it returned to where it had been before; a listless stare across fields of green grass intercepted with colorful flowers. She debated for a moment, a first for her, before taking a seat at the other side of the tree. It put a barrier between them, a comfort for at least one of them, and a chance to pretend that the tree was really a fortress wall.

“How is it.” She began after a few moments, idly resting her head against the smooth bark, “that Phobos and Deimos know who you are?”

For her question she was awarded a snorting exhale; it was funny how it sounded so much clearer now that her features were not covered by swathing cloth. It was almost funnier that she even noticed such a thing at a time like this. “You honestly don’t know?”

“That’s why I’m asking you now.”

It was a sigh now, and for a moment she started to believe that she wouldn’t receive an answer at all. Off in the distance a bird chirped, another one answering it. It felt different, but the good sort of different, to not have to do anything. To be allowed the chance to just sit and watch the world go by, as the sayings of old went.

“Depending on who you ask, I suppose, will tell you a lot. Some … Some believed that Mars was always a male, while some believed that Mars was female on occasion. It really depends on who you ask, and I suppose for that matter, how open minded you are. In the legends and myths that I always believed, I like to think that Mars was a female and always was. It really only makes sense, as Planetary Crystals can only pass on to a female heir. But myths and legends like to forget details or replace things not considered to be socially acceptable at the time. Mars changing genders is a good one, since some people find the love between two people of the same gender wrong for some fucking asinine reason.”

Her head turned to the side, listening.

“Regardless though, a long, long time ago, when things were a lot better than they are now, Venus and Mars were in a relationship. Serious enough if thought of in today’s ideals of relationships sure, but without what others would consider a formal binding, as both of them knew that they were untamed forces, and forcing compliance would ruin them. It’s not to say that they met only when it suited them, rather that their duties often kept them from each other's arms more than they liked. Despite what everyone now thinks, Venus remained faithful to her … I suppose whatever you want to call it, in Mars. The System was much like it was now; Darkness was always present despite the boasts of others in driving it back. Mars and Venus often fought side by side, dispatching it and enemies of the Queen at her will.”

Another bird chirped, and nothing was there to answer it. Silence spread instead, a surreal sense of foreboding.

“They weren’t always together though. Sometimes one would be sent to the far reaches of the very nature of infinity, returning after harrowing years. It was after one such time that … that Mars confessed to her soulmate that … she missed her. Beyond words. That she feared one day, she might return and Venus could very well be dead. Slain by an enemy, be it Darkness or something else, if not time itself. She feared this above all things because her Duty was to the Queen, but her Heart was to Venus. Realizing this, Venus thought of a plan, promising her love that when she returned, it would be to a solution.”

The woman paused, the sounds of drinking followed.

“I’m sure there’s some possibility between magic and scientific advances now; not that there’s any materials of course thanks to fuckwits like the War Machine, that two ordinary women can love one another and produce a child. The only shortcoming is funds at least for magic, because whatever projects the Mercurians might have been working on are probably shot since survival is a bit more important to everyone, so magic is the only option. But these were two Goddesses in their own right … they had all the magic they needed at their disposal, at their fingertips, and what they couldn’t accomplish certainly the Queen could. While Mars was gone Venus toiled, until when her love returned it was to two children. I suppose children isn’t the right word, given they were adults. They held Venus’ eyes and Mars’ hair, enabling and allowing them to be considered Martian for all and any necessary purposes that could arise then or in the future. They would always be closeby, a reminder and a help so Mars would never forget and importantly, never feel alone even if her love was not present.”

“They’re … Phobos and Deimos?”

“The same.” There was a long pause again. “I suppose in some long, roundabout way … I’m their mother.”

She wasn’t sure what sounded more fanciful, which story told to her demanded more of her disbelief to be suspended in order to be believed. “Why then is your Crystal hinging upon me?”

There was another snort again. “Thal’s balls … fine, I’ll spell it out for you since you can’t connect the dots.” The rustle of movement followed as the Imperator rose, stepping around the tree until she sat on her heels before her. The bandages over her missing eye were gone, a brown eyepatch with a tree decorating the patch adorned her face instead. 

It bothered her as much as it angered her, an unfamiliar rush of jealousy and possessiveness flaring within.

“You get that you’re Mars, hopefully that got through your fucking thick skull. Just as it should be no surprise that I am Venus. You are a reincarnation who, for the past half dozen to dozen lives, has _forgotten_ me and _forgotten everything important._ I don’t know how; I can theorycraft with the best of them exactly _when_ it _could_ have happened, and it can all be a simple coincidence despite the numerous degrees of separation that connect it together. Past me, at some point, felt positively helpless and stupidly decided that the only way to _win_ you back after sex no longer worked, was to tie her Crystal; _my Crystal,_ to _you._ That hopefully, Thal’s balls willing, you would suddenly snap to, realize how much _you_ were hampering things and being a fuckwit, and remember. Then everything would be sickenly perfect again for everyone involved. At first it worked, until Mars couldn’t even be swayed by _that_ any longer. So now you had assfuck Mars in control of not only _her_ Crystal, but _Venus’_ as well. In her short sightedness, perhaps blinded by the very thing that was her essence, her Crystal would no longer activate unless Venus loved Mars, which Mars made sure was fucking impossible.”

There was a need for a reaction welling within her when before, she never had to answer to anyone. To say she liked it was wrong, because she certainly did not like how much she _wanted_ to do things like … hold her. Or kiss her. Or run fingers through her blonde hair contained in braids. Things she certainly _hadn’t_ wanted to do before, at least not with anyone _else._

“So that’s why you’re so damn fucking important in all of this Premier. The Queen cannot use the Imperial Silver Crystal without the support of all the planets of the system. That’s why there’s an Alliance in the first place; partly to keep assfucks like the War Machine from destroying what life is left after the Darkness obliterated it, but also to prevent the Darkness from even doing so in the first place. Obviously it failed this time around, but you all are in the perfect place to fuck everyone over at the same time.”

“I moved out of the Palace when I was nineteen.” It had absolutely no bearing on what the woman was saying. Perhaps it was her attempt to make sense of everything, or to change the direction of the almost interrogation she was being subject to. “This would have occurred before then.”

Amazingly, she did not roll her eye at her. Perhaps it was because the effect would be lost when you had but one. “You just recently turned eighteen.”

“You’ve been waiting then all this time to tell me how I’ve wronged you, how I made you feel as though you are useless when it could be argued that this gave you purpose in your life.”

She looked like she was internally debating to say something in return, to take her baiting remark and answer with something scornful. The narrowing of her gaze, the exhale of breath, the set line of her jaw gave it all away. It didn’t bring her the rush of enjoyment like it did for baiting so many others, giving them the opportunity to do something stupid. 

Perhaps though, it wasn’t wise to antagonize someone that saved one’s life. “Regardless, you still saved my life.”

Seemingly more resigned the woman sat back on the ground. She said nothing for a while, the lack of noise blending in with the silence otherwise around them, turning an already dislikable situation into something further uncomfortable. When she finally did speak it was with a quiet voice, absent most of the venom that laced her words before. “Have to keep with the tradition of doing stupid things, after all.” She took a deep breath. “Why exactly are you here? You’ve always done what your father told you to.”

“Do you always obey your parents?”

“They’re dead.”

She couldn’t help it, releasing her own sigh. “When they were alive then.”

“My father was rarely around and my mother told me not to go to Mars. Does that answer your question?”

“I’ve done as the King has said for years now.” There should be something more with her words, but the ability to translate the emotions and thoughts to simple words escaped her. If she was so honest with herself, she wasn’t sure exactly why she was sharing such things about herself in the first place.

“The King, not your father.” The reply came with clarification sought and a warm breeze.

“He stopped being my father when my mother passed. The War Machine was created at that point and he became King. That is all he has been since.” She paused for a moment, a new thought coming to fruition in her mind. “You’re a virgin, are you not.” At the near deadpan look she received in return she gleefully continued on. “You said it yourself, your past version was successful to some degree by sex. There’s some idiots who believe sex will lead to love, so there is the solution to _your_ problem. For it is not _my problem_ that _you_ are incapable of using your crystal without complications.”

“Thal’s fucking balls.” The woman rose to her feet, visibly agitated by the direction the conversation took. 

Hardly to be willingly spoken down to, she rose to both her own feet and occasion. “For as much as you speak of this being’s balls, leads me to believe you’ve been craving a cock for some time now. While I do not possess one I am certain I can find something to improvise with.”

In retrospect, she was amazed that she had been allowed to finish her sentence before the resounding slap that burned to the very core of her essence was levied across her face. The blonde said nothing, but the raging hurt and anger was clearly spoken as she turned on her heel and left.


End file.
